Purity Amidst Madness
by Gaming Ikari
Summary: Meliadoul is faced with the shocking revelation that Ramza speaks the truth, and must live with the reality that her father is a possessed demon who killed her beloved brother.
1. Chapter 1

Purity Amidst Madness

Chapter 1

oOo

My life had always been one of structure and ritual.

When I was a little girl, my brother and I would play on the family estate. Of course we didn't play with toys, with a father like ours that was never our fate. Instead we played with practice blades, getting used to the weight of a blade in our hand at a time when most children were getting used to the idea of being off their mother's apron strings.

She would have been a moderating influence on that sort of behavior, had our mother survived Izlude's birth. Instead my father's armsmen were left to care for us, when he himself wasn't there. He rarely had kind words for us and his questions upon greeting us were always of what new things we'd learned, and if we'd mastered the forms our various weapons teachers were drilling into us.

My brother Izlude was capable of sparring on even ground with some of the knights training at a nearby Nanten fortress by the time he was fourteen, beating my record of doing the same by the time I was fifteen. We learned tactics and strategy from dozens of teachers, absorbing that knowledge as fast as our tutors could provide it.

It's not arrogance to say that Izlude and I are both prodigies in the art of warfare. It's just fact.

By the time I was seventeen, I'd been selected to be trained by the Shrine Knights. I learned how to channel the magical spark within me to rupture a foe's gear as I struck. It's not an art that lends itself well to fighting beasts, or lightly armed and armoured foes, but I hold the edge over the cruder Holy Swordsmen when facing knights or lancers.

A year ago, I first heard the name Ramza Beoulve. Or, as he was calling himself during those days, Ramza Ruglia. Ramza the Heretic. Ramza the Assassin. The man who'd killed Cardinal Draclau and stolen a holy stone, just like the one I had in my pouch. I studied the drawing and grimaced at the audacity of some milk-chinned boy actually penetrating Lionel to murder a cardinal in his own santum.

I also wondered slightly at his motives. I'd seen enough and learned enough about the world to know that simply being a "religious extremist" didn't prompt the bastard son of a noble family to invade a well guarded castle and commit the murder of a prominent religious figure. After questioning him about it, my father admitted that the Princess Ovelia's departure from Lionel may have played a factor.

Of course, the entire event was a fiasco for the Shrine Knights. We were supposed to prevent things like this from happening, and my father had only been gone from the place for a day when it happened. Cardinals should not have to worry about uppity squires and ragtag bands of Hokuten washouts.

There was little I could do about it, though. Only God knew where this Ramza was: All I could do at the time was keep an eye out. Surely one miserable squire wouldn't pose a problem for a Shrine Knight. Whenever our select group chanced across him, whoever it was, we would bring him to task for his crimes and end it.

Besides, Zalmo and his network of informants would be better suited to the task of tracking this heretic down. That was my thought until I learned that Zalmo had tried and failed. Of course, one doesn't become a nationally-recognized terrorist lightly, but Zalmo was a professional heresy examiner. His people were well-trained and highly disciplined. That this ragtag bunch of Hokuten deserters could annihilate Zalmo's entire squad was insane.

Of course, that was merely the prelude.

A few weeks later, I learned that Ramza had killed Weigraf Folles. That came as a surprise. Certainly he was strong, to have done so. Weigraf, for all his strength, was not someone who'd been inducted into the Shrine Knights. His position was honourary, my father had told me, granted because of favours he'd done and would continue to do for us. He was not truly one of our own.

I said as much to the messenger.

"There's more," he replied, eyes not meeting my own. He'd looked uneasy as stood in the library where he'd found me. "Perhaps you should have a seat, milady."

I'd frowned, but did so.

"Weigraf was not the only Shrine Knight killed during the battle at Riovanes," the messenger told me, as my stomach clenched and my heart had stopped beating. "Your brother, Knight Blade Izlude, was also among the casualties of the fight."

I'd never known true hatred until then. When I heard those words I swore I'd kill this Ramza myself. At any cost.

oOo

If he'd killed both Weigraf and Izlude, I knew he would be no common warrior, no matter what the High Priest Funeral promised me when he gave me the order to hunt him down. Anyone who could defeat two Shrine Knights in a single day was a foe to be approached with caution. I tracked down several different man who'd reported fighting him, only to get infuriatingly contradictory stories from them all.

One man, a thief who'd fought him while he was working under the mercenary Gafgarion, swore that Ramza Ruglia fought as a mere squire with the basics of knight training. One of Zalmo's men swore that during the battle, Ramza the Heretic utilized summoning magic, backed by white magic. A survivor of Riovanes castle swore upon his faith that when Ramza and Weigraf clashed in the main hall, the blond boy fought as a samurai wielding two blades instead of one.

So a ninja, priest, summoner, AND samurai. No wonder my brother and Weigraf had been caught unaware. As much as I hated him, I had to admit that Ramza Beoulve was a prodigy in his own right if he'd mastered that many disciplines. The sort of warrior who could blend that many advanced techniques would certainly be a terror on the battlefield.

I tried to imagine it: the heavy armour of a samurai coupled with the dual-wielding of a ninja, backed by the ability to draw out the spirit of a katana. That would give him the ability to be deadly to any foe immediately next to him, and a credible threat to others nearby. And just like his summoning, allies wouldn't be harmed by his attacks, and foes wouldn't be helped by his healing abilities.

Damn.

It was with those abilities in mind that I made my preparations. I withdrew the Defender blade from the Shrine Knight armoury: It's thick blade would help me turn aside any of the repeated blows he'd no doubt be levelling at me. Chantage was a must: In the event he actually killed me, the mystical perfume would bring me back to life before the magical spark within me faded and I crystalized.

I knew any attack I made would have to be made from the high ground: A ninja named Sachiko, two archers named Alyssa and Ilia, and two summoners named Katarin and Meera comprised my support troops. With the ability to hit our foes hard and prevent them from reaching us quickly in turn, they would be able to counter Ramza's Hokuten classmates. Hopefully I could blast Agrias Oaks' sword from her hand at the outset of the battle. I knew that depriving her of her sword would be key to victory.

I soon learned that Ramza and his party would be journeying through Bervenia. It was there I set my trap. It was there that I learned what it is to face Ramza Beoulve in battle.

oOo

I stood proudly atop a roof, facing the small group coming into town. Ramza Beoulve was walking into town, and of all the luck, he wasn't even equipped for battle! A light shirt and breeches were all that protected him from the arrows and spells which would soon attempt to harm him. The only sword not worn by Agrias Oaks was on the pack-chocobo at the rear of the group, buried amidst a pile of katanas and various equipment.

The first thing I noticed was his age. I'm accounted young for my skill, but this boy was younger still. If he'd seen twenty summers, I was a Hokuten general. He was chuckling to himself as he chatted with a ponytailed blond man. Mustadio, if I remembered my reports correctly. A skilled shot with the gun at his hip. Behind them Agrias Oaks chatted with two female knights. Her friends from St. Konoe, likely. And behind that trio a pair of dark-skinned magicians I instantly recognized: Rafa and Malak, Barinten's personal assassins.

At least, they were, before Ramza killed him. I wondered how they could possibly stomach working with him. Didn't they have friends at Riovanes? The reports I'd seen from the aftermath of Ramza's attack numbered at well over five hundred. The disturbed young man hadn't stopped at slaughtering the troops there, he'd killed servants and peasants as they cowered in small rooms.

Not one person had been spared.

As Rafa and Malak split from the group and wandered off, I nearly laughed at my good fortune. With them they took the chocobo with Ramza's equipment. Ramza and his other four allies continued to walk towards me and my forces. I wouldn't even have to move to bait them into the perfect trap as they walked uphill towards me.

They were perhaps thirty feet from the house on which I lay waiting when I and the women with me stood as one. It was no surprise that Ramza's friends immediately drew their weapons, though Ramza himself merely stared at me.

"Who?" The blond boy wondered, shifting his feet to ready himself for attack. Not that it would matter.

"My name is Meliadoul. I'm here to avenge my brother!" I snarled. My rage only grew at the blank look on his face. Even if he didn't know who it was, that this murdering filth could be surprised that someone might seek him out for vengeance was disgusting. He and his band of murderers had killed hundreds at Riovanes alone, nevermind the dozens upon dozens of others he'd battled all across Ivalice.

"Avenge your brother?" He wondered, taking a step forward. "What are you talking about?"

"You're denying it?" I spat, drawing my thick sword. I pointed it at him. "Izlude Tingel was my brother! You killed him at Riovanes! For his sake, not the High Priest, I'll kill you!"

I moved forward and swung my blade, aiming an attack at Ramza's ally Agrias as she charged forward. The sword in her hand exploded spectacularly, knocking her back and putting her out for the fight. Alyssa and Ilia sent arrows at Ramza though he dodged one and the other went wide.

In response, the ponytailed engineer drew his gun from his holster and fired in one smooth shot, Sachiko grunting in pain and dropping one of her daggers as the bullet hit her arm. The two St. Konoe knights advanced, one stopping to adminster a phoenix down to the fallen Holy Knight while the other grimly advanced around the side.

Katarin targeted her with a Ramuh while Meera began to chant Haste on me. I'd need the edge if I was going to win this. I was drawing on the power within me, readying to shatter the sword of the knight by Agrias' side when Ramza did the last thing I expected: Unarmed and unarmored, he jumped right up onto the roof of the house with me as if he were personally exempt from gravity.

I abandoned my attack and changed the swing of my blade, levelling it at Ramza's unprotected neck instead. Both of his hands flashed up, impossibly quick, catching my blade between his palms and turning it aside. Nice trick, for a monk.

"I didn't kill your brother!" The blond boy yelled, instead of taking advantage of my distraction to attack. I raised my sword into a guard position and tried circling around him, though he kept the long drop off the front of the roof at his back. "Don't you know what happened at Riovanes? That wasn't done by anything human! It was the work of Lucavi!"

"Lucavi? Lucavi just appeared and killed my brother?" I sputtered with a dark laugh. What kind of idiot did he take me for? I swung once more at him, and he grunted as he tried to dodge. The tip of my large blade still bit flesh, ripping his shirt and scoring a shallow gash on his flank. "Can't you come up with a better lie than that!?"

Around us, the battle raged on. The advancing St. Konoe knight impressed me by shrugging off the full effects of a Ramuh, advancing on the summoner who'd hit her with deadly grace. Agrias was back up and chanting a spell, following the other knight despite her own lack of a weapon. Their engineer advanced around the other side, using his impressive aim to disrupt Meera right before she completed her spell. Both of my archers loosed arrows at the lead-most knight, who blocked one arrow before another took her high on the arm.

"You're the same as Izlude! You don't know the truth!" Ramza snarled, finally attacking me with a flurry of blows. I raised Defender and absorbed the blows on it's wide blade, wincing at the force behind the attack. He advanced on me, forcing me to step back to maintain my distance or grapple with a monk. "You don't realize you're just a pathetic puppet, dancing for evil men! The stones aren't just objects of faith!

"They have the power to work miracles, but that power depends on the person who uses it and right now those stones are being used for evil! Wake up, Meliadoul! Vormav is decieving you!"

"You expect me to believe that?" I snapped, ducking and bringing Defender into a powerful slash at his legs. He leaped over the attack and me, landing behind me. I used the momentum of my slash to spin into a defensive stance, wincing at the vicious kick which slipped through and nearly left me breathless. "Vormav is my father!"

The statement shocks my foe, and I use his surprise to swing another vicious blow which he partially deflects, opening a deep gash on the outside of his left leg.

Ramza's lead knight was now battling Katarin, and the poor summoner was desperately fending off the knight's sword with her staff. She didn't last long once the second knight joined the fight. Agrias finished her spell and the wounds she still had closed along with the burns Ramuh inflicted on her friend. Another loud crack spelled the end of Meera, dead before she'd done anything but soak up gunshots. Sachiko bravely threw herself at the two knights, Alyssa and Ilia supporting her from the flank.

"My brother really wanted to save this rotten world!" I yelled, fighting down the welling in my throat. I focused my rage on the young man in front of me, swinging again and again. "Our plans are violent, but it's the only way we can change the system! A wretch like you who runs from his own problems could never understand!"

"Please, trust me!" Ramza cried, one more blocking my blade midswing and just holding it there with his bare hands. He steps forward, bringing himself dangerously close. "I didn't kill your brother! I'm not the one you should be fighting! Your father is no longer human! He's a demon, possessed by Lucavi!"

"Cut it out, Ramza!" I snapped, headbutting the Beoulve. He reeled back and I used the opportunity to kick him in the ribs, causing him to stumble back a few steps. Something whizzes by my face an instant before I hear the crack of the engineer's gun and I glance around.

Both my summoners were dead, as was my ninja. Even as I watched, one of the St. Konoe knights hacked down Ilia, leaving only her fellow archer Alyssa alive to support me. Ramza used my distraction to let loose with a vicious slash of his arm, ripping the tiles of the roof and covering me with wounds as he employed his monk arts. I dropped to one knee.

"You're... strong!" I gasped. Very strong. Much stronger than I'd anticipated. "No wonder you killed Weigraf!"

I stood and signalled to my remaining archer. Alyssa ran as if hell itself pursued her.

"Ramza, the next time we meet is the day you die! Remember that!" I told him, then teleported away.

oOo

"I'm sorry... but I don't think you'll ever be able to kill that man, milady."

I was sitting at a quiet table in the a rented house in Bervenia. I knew Ramza and his band wouldn't be able to track us down to where we were.

I couldn't find it in my heart to blame Alyssa for the thought. I'd known Ramza was strong before I attacked him, but I now realized I'd badly underestimated him and his people.

"I don't understand how he's so strong!" I growled, slapping my empty wine glass off the table. It hit the wall with a vicious smash. "He beat me without weapons or armour! He fought like a stupid monk and he still beat me!"

"They beat us all," Alyssa agreed. She winced, obviously still sore from the battle. She sipped her wine, staring out the window. "What bothers me is how badly we were outclassed. Meera didn't even have time to get off a single spell before that engineer finished her off. Katarin's Ramuh didn't do much more than piss off the St. Konoe knight before she got killed. Sachiko lasted maybe ten seconds trying to hold off those two knights with her remaining dagger... and Ilia didn't even have time to blink once Sachiko went down."

We sat in silence broken only by the soft clink of Alyssa's glass on the table.

A rattle at the door brought us both to our feet as someone jimmied the lock. Ramza and his people must have found us!

I grasped for Defender only to realize it was across the room, along with my armour. Alyssa dove for her bow, grasping for an arrow as the door opened. I think the last thing we expected was for our dead comrades to walk inside. Sachiko, ever cautious, peered around outside the house before she shut the door.

"We thought you were dead," Alyssa said softly, putting down her bow.

"What happened?" I asked, gesturing for them to sit. They took seats at the table, looking at one another uncomfortably.

"I guess I'll do the honours," Katarin sighed. She gently set her horned circlet on the table before she continued. "Well, it's no news to you two that the battle went poorly. I assume that after the four of us died, you fled before you could join us."

I nodded, waving her on.

"He brought us back," Katarin said simply. I blinked.

"Who brought you back?" I demanded. "Not..."

"Yeah," Ilia confirmed, grabbing Alyssa's wine glass and taking a sip. "When we came to, the only one around was Ramza. He apologized for the confusion and asked us not to attack him again. Warned us that next time, he wouldn't bring us back."

"He showed you four... Mercy?" I choked. That wasn't the sort of thing the man everyone claimed he was would do. It wasn't Ramza the Heretic, Ramza the Murderer. Something about it tickled my memory, somehow.

"He even left us with a few potions before he went on his way," Meera admitted. At the look on my face, she shrugged. "I know, I know. Big bad Ramza and his crew take us out, then patch us up and send us on our way? Doesn't make any more sense to me than it does to you."

"But that's how it happened," Sachiko muttered, rubbing the spot on her arm where she'd had a bullet wound barely an hour before. Her eyes rose to meet mine. "No offense, milady, but I'm beginning to suspect that he and his merry band aren't the ones who slaughtered everyone at Riovanes."

"I'll admit that he's shown some unexpected mercy to us," I finally said, nodding. I took my seat. "That doesn't change the fact we know he killed Wiegraf and Cardinal Draclau. We've got witnesses for both of those. At least enough to place him in the same room as them right before they died."

"True," Katarin nodded. "However, I don't think he's denied killing the cardinal. His claim is that Cardinal Draclau was possessed by an evil spirit, right?"

"That was what he said. He also claims that my father, a Shrine Knight, is possessed by Lucavi," I added drily. That got a chuckle out of everyone there. "For all we know, Ramza Beoulve is a madman who talks to his milk and sees devils in his sweat stains. Saving you four might have been nothing more than a deranged whim."

"That would make it all the more important to take him down, then," Ilia said with a shiver. "Milady, I mean no disrespect when I say this, but that young man fights like no other I've ever seen. Madman or not, I doubt there's more than a hundred in Ivalice who could match him in combat."

"Though if he's insane, why does he have so many friends?" Meera asked, prompting thoughtful looks from everyone at the table. "We know Agrias Oaks and her two knights have been bodyguards to Princess Ovelia for years. Likewise Rafa and Malak are well-known agents of Barinten. Are all five of them mad as well?"

Too many questions and not enough answers. I sighed.

"Look, you all can return to Murond. We've experienced first hand just how strong he is. I can't order you all to attack him again," I told them. They looked visibly relieved, Sachiko slumping in her chair with a small smile. "I will be going after him, however. I will kill that bastard for murdering my brother, no matter how many other lives he's spared. I'd like to request that one of you carry a message for me."

It wasn't long before we'd all left the house behind. Sachiko led the rest back towards Murond, and I journeyed after Ramza.

oOo

It was weeks before I found the blond bastard's trail again. He'd been across the world in that time. And he raised still more doubts during the time he was beyond my sight.

He stormed the Bethla Garrison. To repeat that for the peasants who might not understand the full weight of what he accomplished, Ramza Beoulve attacked and took control of Bethla Garrison, the one fortress which has stood the test of a hundred armies in the centuries which it has endured. For thousands of years, Bethla has been the sovereign domain of the Golthana family. Nobody has ever actually usurped that control before.

Ever.

Yet Druksmald lost control over it for a few hours. During that time, Ramza stormed the south wall, overcame the defenses, then assaulted the Bethla Sluice which held back the largest lake in Ivalice. A dam which protected the largest open area of open plains in Ivalice... A section of the world which promised to be host to the largest bloodbath in our nation's history.

Hundreds of thousands of troops eyed one another across a scarce mile of open ground. Each side knew that this battle would be a meat grinder, with the victor proving to be the faction which managed to save the most troops. The losers would fertilize the ground with their blood.

The worst calamity Ivalice could possibly face: Goltana's forces against Larg's forces. Nearly every fighting man and woman in the country poised to charge across the divide and do their best to inflict casualties on the enemy. A permanent weakening of our nation against the countries keeping a casual eye upon us... Civil war, the like of which would surpass the casualties of the Fifty Year War in it's first major battle.

The night before, I'm not ashamed to admit I wept for my country. I was conscious enough of the political reality of our nation to know that whoever won would face an irresistable invasion from beyond our borders. Goltana and Larg were both complete fools.

Yet as the massive armies prepared to charge, a third, undeniable force invaded the battlefield and made the ground it's own. The lake which had been held in check for decades was loosed, all at once, upon the ground which seperated the two largest armies Ivalice had ever seen gathered in one location. The armies flinched, neither willing to attempt to take advantage of the radical change in their chosen battlefield.

The largest battle in our world was averted. Staring across the beautiful reflection of the sunset provided by the brand new lake, I gave thanks to the nameless entity which had made it happen. I would have hated myself to know I thanked Ramza Beoulve for that wonderful sight, at the time. Yet I know, now, that he is not the man I thought he was.

In the aftermath, I ran into one of Goltana's squires. A young man who told me he'd been allowed to leave after Ramza's troops secured the Bethla Sluice. The squire admitted that although Ramza and his band struck like the hammer of Ajora, once they'd loosed the lake they retreated from even token offenses like the squire's without inflicting loss of life. As if stopping the battle had been Ramza's only goal, and as if the lives of the men remaining were too precious to kill just to ensure that escape was made easier.

The young man finally admitted that the blond young man was bound for Limberry. Confusion thick in my breast, I made my way toward the Marquis Elmdor's palace. As I did, I pondered the questions I'd ask of the monster who killed my brother. I wondered why a man who appeared so determined to prevent the loss of life, any life, would kill someone like Izlude without remorse or regret.

In my musings, I finally asked myself if maybe, just maybe, he'd actually done the horrible thing I thought he had. Some part of me knew that he'd had no reason or obligation to save my subordinates, had no reason to keep them in this world. Yet he'd stayed behind to see to their hurt with as much concern as if they'd been his own.

He was a contradiction. One I knew I had to solve to avenge Izlude.

oOo

By the time I arrived at the outskirts of Limberry, I knew Ramza was already within the castle. The entrance was marked by the scorches of high-level black magic and several of the columns were shattered. The entryway had been the site of a great battle. My confusion only grew once I realized that there were no corpses or crystals littering the battleground. This didn't fit the method of operation my foe practiced... He never took the crystals of his foes unless he or his people needed them.

I ran through the battleground, pushing open the loose doorway. I didn't ponder the lack of servants as I rushed through the corridors, making my way toward the main hallway where Marquis Elmdor held his court. I passed dozens of unmolested servants, their still-alive forms in direct opposition to the sort of operation Ramza had supposedly undertaken during his invasion of Riovanes.

Arriving at the Grand Hall, I nearly vomited. Only two bodies littered the floor, but those two bodies were enough. They were covered in arrows and the gashes of blades, poisoning the stones underneath their bodies with their blood. I recognized them.

According to Ajora's Scripture they were the servants of Lucavi, servants not low on the chain of command. These were the sort of demons that needed Lucavi's personal approval to exit their plane of existence. They threw my whole religion into question with their existence: Our faith should have kept them from transcending to our plane. We were the guardians of their prison.

We had not faltered.

The Shrine Knights remained vigilant.

Hadn't we?

oOo

Upon reaching the catacombs of Marquid Elmdor's castle, everything I knew was forever changed. I stormed down the narrow stairs, my sword held at the ready. The moment I leapt through the doorway into the underground, I was ready to attack Ramza's rear with all my strength, just so the marquis would be able to fend off the terrorist persuing him.

I froze, my sword at the ready, as my gaze moved beyond Ramza's hated form. Floating in the air at odds with the man who I thought had killed my brother was one of Lucavi's most famous liuetenants. Zalera the Defiler flapped his wings, glaring at the blond boy leading a ragtag band of troops.

Possession. He still wore the remnants of Marquis Elmdor's infamous Genji armour. The breastplate clattered to the ground as I watched.

"What? The Marquis -- a monster? This...is the power of the Zodiac Stone?" I asked, my blade nearly slipping from my grasp. Zalera merely smirked, though my hated foe turned towards me.

"Now you know what I said was true! Your brother Izlude died because he found the truth and fought them!" Ramza yelled, drawing his own blade and squaring off against a demon. Undead spirits rose all around my foe, surrounding him.

"Oh my God!" I muttered, taking a step forward, towards my enemy. Towards the madness now gathered around him. I remembered Ramza's ridiculous claims from the last time we'd fought. Remembered how ludicrous the very idea of the head of the Shrine Knights being possessed seemed. Now, it was a disturbing, potential truth. "Does Father... does my father know what these stones do?"

Ramza turned to give me a pained look. He fought to keep something from escaping his lips while he viewed me with total pity. Remorse prevented him from putting the final nail into the coffin of my beliefs.

"So, you're Vormav's daughter?" Zalera howled, not trying to hide his amusement. He thrust one wing forward to point rudely at me as he chuckled. "Just like Izlude, you aren't a suitable host for us... Your father, on the other hand..."

A fist more solid than stone struck me, threatening to spill me to my knees. As I watched the demon laughing, I felt the core of my existence ripped from me. The basis of my faith, gone. Everything I knew, everything I believed, ripped from me. My world was a lie.

"Vormav is no longer your father," Zalera crowed, flapping exitedly around the cieling of the cavern. His voice rose, becoming shrill. "Vormav is now a blood member of Darkness. But no matter...For now you and Ramza will die here!"

Ramza's plaintive cries for a peaceful resolution came back to haunt me. Every blow he refused to land on me struck twice as hard as I remembered just how much he'd tried to reason with me. He'd told me everything I'd just learned. He'd tried to keep me out of this fight, tried to keep me from learning it on my own.

He'd tried to soften the knowledge that my father was now a demon controlled by Lucavi.

"What you said was true..." I gasped, my eyes meeting the amber eyes of my former foe across the gloomy cavern. He nodded, turning back to Zalera. Turning back to a foe who he must have been scared of as a child, learned that this demon would come for him if he misbehaved. His very existence was a ghastly reminder of the fables I'd grown up learned. "Ramza... I'm sorry..."

"It's ok, Meliadoul!" My former foe roared, charging at the demonic being before him with no regard for his own safety. His blade bit deeply into the monster's side, eliciting a painful howl which rattled the stones of the crypt in which we fought. He took the time to flash me a shy smile. "Let's avenge Izlude together!"

Before I could respond, the undead spirits closed on me and I lost sight of my newfound ally. I blocked an ethereal blade, thankful the magic could prevent it from rending my flesh. More spirits surrounded me, blocking my view of Zalera and Ramza.

Thus I fought, my beliefs shattered. Surrounded by undead spirits seeking my flesh, I fought a desperate defense. All the while, I wondered if Ramza could actually fight past Zalera's minions. If he could stop this inescapable onslaught. If we could win against one of the demons which had given me nightmares as a child. If he could win against demons capable of killing my brother with ease, demons capable of corrupting a man of devout faith like my father. Forced into a stone corridor, I resigned myself to death at the hands of my undead foes even as I lashed out like a rabid animal. As they closed, I thrust without concern for my defense in the hopes of rending their spirits and dragging them down to Murond with me. I refused to die alone!

Three blades closed on me. I flinched, closing me eyes and resigning myself to my fate.

"Hashmalum!" A voice shrieked. "I'm sorry! I'm leaving the rest to you!"

Moments after a massive boom echoed throughout the champter, I opened my eyes to find my undead foes were gone. As I opened my eyes I saw a precious gem balanced on the tip of Ramza's blade, pausing to defy gravity before falling to the ground with a muted clink on the stones.

"I never imagined that such a powerful force could be hidden by the stones..." I finally admitted, catching Ramza's attention. He flashed me a small smile, noting that I'd sheathed my sword. "The scriptures call these things Holy Stones, but I never thought they'd summon something like that."

"Neither you nor Izlude were informed," Ramza told me firmly, pocketing Zalera's stone. He shrugged, then crossed his arms. "Even Wiegraf didn't know the purpose of the stones until he turned to Lucavi for power, right as he was about to die. The plot you Shrine Knights formed is being used by Vormav, now."

"But... What're they after?" I demanded, my mind searching for answers.

"I don't know," Ramza admitted with a rueful shake of his head. "If they want to, they could destroy an entire brigade. Just like at Riovanes. But they don't use that power outright. There must be a reason why."

"Maybe they can't use their power outright?" I offered, pondering the riddle before me. "The Lucavi of legend was an unbeatable, ferocious monster. I mean no offense to you or your people, but these foes are hardly immortal demons."

"You're right," Ramza admitted, moving towards me. "They don't seem to be the 'immortal evils' the legends say."

"Legends do tend to over exaggerate," I pointed out as he stopped a pace or two away from me. "Maybe Lucavi was just another monster. Maybe they weren't the all-powerful destroyers legends made them out to me."

"I hope so..." Ramza finally said, placing a deceptively gentle hand on my shoulder. I flinched, my eyes snapping to his. His bright, honest gaze met mine without any hatred or fear. Only concern marked the gaze of a man I'd spent the last few months trying to kill. "Are you alright?"

No. I wasn't okay. My father was a god-damned demon bent on twisting my homeland to his evil designs. My brother was dead by my father's hand. Everything I knew, everything I trusted, had been turned on it's head in the last hour. Perhaps, with time, I could come to terms with all of it.

Right now, I considered it a boon that I didn't fall on the young man, sobbing and screaming. For all my problems, for all the shocking revelations I knew I was facing right now, I knew he'd faced worse. I knew, right then, that everything he'd told me was true. Not just that, but that the most outlandish rumours I'd heard were also the most accurate.

That this poor bastard hadn't succumbed to madness was an accomplishment all by itself, let alone all the good he'd done for our poor, beleagured country.

"I'm going to give you this Zodiac Stone," I told him, removing the thing from my belt pouch and laying it in his hand. It seemed to weigh him down, for all that it only weighed a pound or two. "In return, let me go along. I want to know why my father has become what he has. And I've got a few questions..."

"Such as?" Ramza prompted, suspicion in his voice.

"I want to know why my father gave away the 'Capricorn' Stone," I concluded. "Why it was given to Lord Dycedarg... I need to know."

"To my brother?" Ramza wondered, his voice tight. "I don't know why Dycedarg has that stone. But together, we'll find some answers."

The innocent smile he flashed me made me wonder how I ever could have hated him.

oOo

Author's Notes:

I'll be sticking with the script from the Playstation version of Final Fantasy Tactics, though I'll also be taking liberties with the wording of various scenes. For those wondering how I'm going to achieve any character focus... Well, it involves the sidequests, and I'm probably going to work in a few of the more interesting Propositions, too.

I mean, let's face it. If I'm going to do a Meliadoul/Ramza story, I've pretty much GOT to include the optional content if I don't want to rush it into the tiny amount of time between when you get her and the earliest possible point where you can complete the game... Though I'll probably omit the Cloud/Aerith sidequest for obvious reasons.

This is done purely because SerialRavist has done such wonderful work for Ovelia, Agrias, and Rafa. I wasn't about to let him get away with doing EVERYTHING all by himself. And given my love of Ranma, the tsundere might as well be the character I've picked.

-Gaming Ikari

P.S. For some reason, didn't like my last scene. I had to go back and edit it into coherency manually.


	2. Chapter 2

Purity Amidst Madness

Chapter 2

oOo

Hate him? No. I couldn't. Suspecting him was another thing entirely. Suspicion was territory I was willing to travel. As we left Limberry, I soon realized that Ramza was probably the strangest commander I'd ever met.

Even the youngest of the trio of Hokuten deserters showed no hesitation in disputing Ramza's plans and threw her own two gil in whenever the mood struck her. Though those three spent the majority of their time searching down other leads for Ramza and thus, spent only a small amount of time with the main group, they felt no hesitation in questioning his orders.

More troubling was the fact he listened when they spoke every time, even in battle, which ran counter to everything I'd learned about commanding men in the field. Everything he did spoke of a poorly trained commander, one who would lead his forces into defeat. Of course, the fact that T.G. Cid himself followed this raw young man's directions without question, save for the rare times he offered his advice, told me that there was something I was missing.

The second evening with the odd group, I sought out Orlandu. I wanted to know why he followed Ramza. The young man... he was obviously raw, inexperienced. The hooded man who stood silent at our flank and watched would have been an infinitely more experienced, more battle-tested leader for our band. Why did this man, used to leading thousands, defer to a young man who'd never commanded more than a dozen people?

The Thunder God smiled at me as I slowly walked towards him, carrying a pair of bowls with some spicy rice dish Rafa cooked. He accepted the dish with a nod, tilting his head towards the empty spot on the log next to him. I took it and had gulped down my first spoonful before he spoke.

"So, what's eating you, girl? Are you wondering what sort of man you've chosen to follow, or are you wondering why it's not me that's leading him?" Orlandu drawled, causing me to cough as the rice caught in my throat. My eyes met his and saw only amusement there. "Oh, I'm not a mind reader. I had the same question for Ms. Oaks when I joined this merry bunch. Everything she'd told me has proven true... And more. I see something in him echoed in my memories which she couldn't possibly know."

"Pardon me?" I managed, attempting to demurely cover the fact I was hacking up rice and, in all likelyhood, failing miserably. After a moment of silence, I smiled wanly. "I guess I'd like to know the answer to both."

"I'll start with why I follow him. To be quite blunt... He's right. No matter how it looks on the surface, no matter how much pain it causes him, he always does what he thinks is right," Orlandu admitted, spooning some rice into his mouth. He paused to give me a look. "I'm sure you're aware of the fact that Balbanes Beoulve was the only man who ever matched me on the battlefield. In every way, that man was my equal, save one: I was willing to bow to Goltana. Balbanes always forced Larg to follow the trail he blazed."

"Perhaps you could clarify?" I asked shyly. It didn't suit me, I'll admit, but let's see how bold you act in front of your childhood hero. This was a man who'd held a pass against a hundred Hokuten with nothing more than a handful of squires. Let's see how bold _you _act in front of him.

"There were times during the war that Goltana ordered me to use strategies I found dishonourable. Most of the time, I refused. Most," He repeated, putting a lot of force behind the word. "And though I'm sure Balbanes faced equal pressure from Larg, he never relented. Every time Larg's forces engaged in dishonourable tactics, Balbanes had long washed his hands of the entire mess.

"That's why I follow Ramza. Bastard he may be, but he's Balbanes' progeny in more ways than his brothers could hope to pretend. Dycedarg and Zalbag were the ones trained to fight like Balbanes, but neither of those men possess the strength of his character. Ramza does possess that strength and more," Orlandu said simply. "Our young leader might lead us into ambushes a more experienced man might have avoided, but he'll never lead us into a battle after which you'll be questioning your conscience.

"You know, now, what sort of danger Ivalice faces. You've been _forced _to see it, just I was forced to confront Goltana's lack of honour. Ramza, however... He recognized that danger and instead of running when he had the chance, he chose to fight this battle willingly," Orlandu set aside his bowl of rice, resting his hands on the log to gaze up at the dusk sky. "Ramza has gone against the world for the last two years out of a simple belief that the state of events aren't right, with no support from his own blood, let alone his former allies. Alone, he's shaken the Church, the Nanten, and even the Hokuten. Everyone with power is after him now.

"He might eventually lead us into a battle we'll have no hope of winning," Orlandu admitted, taking up his dish once more and eating a hearty spoonful of the rice. "On that day, perhaps we'll all die. Then again, he's shaken Ivalice to it's very foundation. Perhaps we'll finally bring the justice Balbanes strove for to this world. That, my dear, is a goal I'd gladly die for."

I quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at him and did my best to finish my bowl. He flashed me a grin as he ate, the twinkle in his eyes suggesting mischief.

"So... You've got questions, but somehow they all pertain to Ramza. If you're interested in the boy, I think there's a fair bit of competition," he stated without preamble, doing his best to hide his chuckle. I was beginning to sputter a protest when he finished his next mouthful of rice, adding, "You know, you're the third damsel in distress he's saved. He takes after Balbanes in that way, I guess. Well, he wouldn't exist at all if Balbanes _weren't_ that way."

"Competition... for Ramza?" I growled, doing my best to inject venom into my voice. It was difficult to do with the burning in my cheeks.

"Agrias. Rafa. And you make three," Orlandu counted off, shrugging as he ate another mouthful of rice. "Actually now that I think about it, you've probably got the best chance anyway. Agrias couldn't be more married to the field of battle if she slept with a sword at night and Rafa seems far too shy to actually try for the boy. You, on the other hand, seem to be sensible enough to try to seduce him."

"You'll excuse me if I'm not interested in a boy who's a few years my junior and so..." My rapid fire protest trailed off, as I struggled both to contain my outraged blush and search for words.

"Dashing? Strong? Heroic, perhaps?" Orlandu supplied with a wolfish grin.

With a strangled cry I got up, storming off. Well, as well as one can storm off when one has to drop her dish and utensil in the wash bucket first. Glaring at the old man laughing himself sick across the camp, I decided that I needed a walk.

It didn't help my mood one bit to hear Ramza politely ask Orlandu what was so funny.

oOo

Igros, ancestral home to the Beoulve family, appeared not to recognize the second-youngest child of the family as he walked in at the head of our column. In the two weeks we'd spent travelling towards the Beoulve estate, I'd learned much about my companions.

Agrias was ever the stoic one. I could see hints of a woman behind her steely mask, but that's all they were, hints. From what I could see she was nearly as strong as Orlandu himself and twice as aggressive. I knew from wielding a Defender myself that the blade was too heavy to swing it around too fast, yet she managed it with considerable ease. Her two St. Konoe knights seemed to follow in her footsteps, and I thought it a little odd that the trio of women were probably the hardiest individuals in our group.

Rafa and her brother Malak were rarely apart, and both were rather quiet individuals. Rafa was as shy as Cid had told me, thought I got the impression that Malak's own reticence came about from an indifference towards socialization instead of mere shyness. I got to see their skills in action as well, and was duly impressed. Though the bursts of magic appeared to be random, I saw one hapless Thief struck no less than three times by Rafa in the span of seconds.

Orlandu lived up to his nickname in combat, and proved to be a major source of irritation outside of it. I had apparently struck some inner nerve with my reaction to his teasing, because he maintained it with little mercy. Only Ramza's presence would forestall the inevitable jokes and implications, and spending time with the blond boy meant enduring the old goat's knowing looks. It had taken me fifteen years to come to truly idolize the man once I'd started my own training and learned how difficult becoming a Heavenly Swordsman truly was, yet he tore down that perception in a matter of days.

He was a terrible old bastard I'd have been happy to see fall at the hands of the bandits who attacked us on the Mandalia Plains, a fate he avoided with a careless chuckle and a blast of lightning issued from his blade. I think he knew how much I was hoping for that, actually. It's the only reason I can see him being caught by the Firaga from the enemy Wizard. The young mage managed to cast her spell in record time, but Orlandu could have easily dispatched her in that span. His broad smile as he emerged from the flames, little worse for the wear, seemed especially directed at me.

Two weeks had acclimated me towards my companions, but it had also done it's work distancing me from the horror I'd encountered within the basement of the Marquis Elmdor's castle. Walking into the Beoulve homestead with my companions at my side, I could almost forget about the monster which had shed Elmdor's armour to attempt to drag our souls from our bodies.

Almost.

I'd forgotten that I was now standing with Ramza bloody Beoulve.

oOo

Zalbag and Dycedarg were not known to be especially close siblings. The seven years between them had apparently been a more difficult hurdle to overcome than most other siblings faced, yet the two had always stood as one where the fate of House Beoulve came into play.

Finding them with Zalbag's sword drawn on his older brother as we entered the main hallway should have surprised me.

It should have.

Yet, I'd known that something was amiss as we entered. Apparently so did Ramza, for he drew his sword without hesitation even before we opened the doors, having identified his brother's chocobo outside of Igros.

"Zalbag!" Ramza's cry is equal grief and rage, and I'm surprised that my own hand snaps to the blade sheathed at my side as I hear the whisper of metal on leather around me.

"Ramza!" Zalbag's face turns to his younger brother from the balcony overlooking the entrance, and on his face I see depthless regret. He fights back his emotions as one eye turns to the oldest sibling of the three present. "You were right, all of it! Dycedarg's fueled this war and killed Larg just to advance his own plans!"

A knight behind Ramza's middle brother shifted, and I knew he was about to attempt a lunge with the heavy blade in his hands.

"Zalbag, behind you!" Ramza yelled, drawing his own blade and rushing forward. His dragoon training paid off, carrying him dozens of feet upward to start attacking both of the elite Hokuten at once. The quickness of either of their blades would have been enough to counter even my own training.

Yet Ramza flitted between them, parrying and thrusting without a care as he secured one half of the battlefield alone. Zalbag took advantage of the shift in his position, launching himself at his brother, their clashing magics forcing Dycedarg's three remaining knights to stand back.

My mouth went dry and my fingers went nerveless. I was used to battle. Traditional combat. Not... Not _this!_ Ramza, by himself, was dealing with two men who would have qualified as blade masters in any unit they cared to apply to, his sword twisting theirs aside and gashing their flanks. Seeing his deadly grace in action, only one thing flashed through my mind.

I'd underestimated Ramza Beoulve. Horribly so.

Zalbag was an Ark Knight, capable of sapping the strength and ability of his foes just by being near them. Likewise, Dycedarg was a Rune Knight, capable of matching the abilities of both myself and Agrias. The terror of their abilities was obvious. It was no wonder that they were feared.

Yet...

They paled beside Ramza's deadliness.

The youngest Beoulve was combat personified. There was nothing he did that any of dozens of Nanten or Hokuten knights couldn't do, but it was the way he did these things that defined him. A knight's blow lead into a squire's body tackle, as he twisted out of the way of a sword swipe with a samurai's blade grasp and then got behind his opponent with a ninja's stealth.

It was beautiful in a way that would have made even the best warrior weep for the perfection they witnessed. It was also horrible, knowing that he'd been forced to learn this perfection.

He lashed out one hand, slamming it into the forearm of one of the swordsmen and forcing the blade up the three inches he needed to spin under the slash while directing the other man's thrust away from hims torso... And all the while, he had a maddeningly calm look on his face.

He was a monster, just like his brothers. The other three knights guarding Dycedarg, every bit the equal of any swordsman I'd met save my father's own armsmen, were far too wary to even get close to the combat of the two older siblings as magic lashed the ground around them. Yet my eyes couldn't help but stare at the youngest Beoulve.

Myself, his equal? A small part of me, the part that retained my sanity, laughed in appreciation at the joke. He fought like a man possessed with the spirit of war itself, and had he possessed the abilities of his brothers, I...

I... I don't know.

Honestly, I don't. The raw ability within Ramza frightened me nearly as much as Zalera had. Even as I stood frozen, the blade masters both fell to Ramza, allowing him to secure his brother's rear. He was a supposed to be nothing more than a squire! His opponents had had at least a decade or more of the harshest combat and they'd fallen to him. He was advancing and he was going to-

A heavy hand fell on my shoulder.

"Not like in the stories, is it?" Orlandu asked calmly, quirking a white eyebrow at me. He grinned at the confusion on my face. "Oh, the stories always talk about how skilled and magnificent with a sword the hero is. He can slay any man, no matter how much experience his opponent might have. Yet it's different seeing that kind of thing in action, isn't it?"

Ramza was now engaging the knights which were on the other side of the balcony. I noted the way that Agrias and her St. Konoe knights moved to support him with an idle fascination.

"I... I fought him, once," I explained, fighting the urge to sink to my knees. I would not embarrass the Tingel family name. Not by breaking down in combat. "This... I, I mean, how? How does he fight like this? This can't be human! It's-"

"It's the way Balbanes Beoulve fought, when he fought for something he truly believed in," Orlandu finished for me, flashing me a wry grin. He tapped the Excalibur at his side. "You think seeing that boy in battle is a terror? Imagine him with my skills and a magical blade. There's a reason I never went out of my way to irritate Balbanes, girl."

Suddenly a glow from Dycedarg's side interrupted us.

"Well, it would appear it's time for us to help out," Orlandu noted, his blade clearing the scabbard with practiced ease. He nodded towards the balcony.

Where Dycedarg once stood, Adramelk the Fury now glared around the room.

Once more, my world was descending into madness. Legends were becoming a reality I must combat.

Orlandu's reassuring pat on my shoulder was no reassurance at all.

oOo

Author's Notes:

Trickster Orlandu: He struck me as flat and boring in the game. However, I can't help but think that this is partially because he was stuck helping Goltana lead his army for the most of it. Given an absolutely free reign, I picture him slowly becoming a less-irritable version of Belgarath.

Crazy Ramza: I don't credit Ramza's success with JUST being in the right place at the right time. He's probably better than pretty much anyone at combat, which, I'd like to point out, would probably be rather frightening to someone like Meliadoul, who's been raised to think she's the best of the best. She's been fighting humans at a disadvantage... and Ramza's been fighting demonic foes who've been failing despite the fact they had the advantage _even before they transformed._

Essentially, Meliadoul's been a big fish in a small pond, while Ramza's been kicking ass at an oceanic level since the end of Chapter 2.

Anyway, this is just a little project I'm going to be working on in my spare time, whenever the urge strikes me. Thus the randomish update schedule. However, I do have to make mention of a mistake I alluded to last chapter. I took this up partially because I haven't seen any Meliadoul/Ramza stories and I was wondering if I could make one work.

So someone named **Teefa and Co **already did a Meliadoul/Ramza story called **A Year in the Life**. It's complete as of March 12th, 2004, which is before I even _had _a Fanfiction dot net account. Now, I'm not stopping this story, but I thought I'd point out that I made a bit of a presumptuous statement.

Uh, My bad? My apologies, **Teefa and Co**?

-Gaming Ikari


	3. Chapter 3

Purity Amidst Madness

Chapter 3

oOo

Though I held my sword in my hands, I did not feel it as I gazed up on the balcony. Adramelk's hunched over form glared around the main hall of Castle Igros with burning eyes, finally falling on the hesitant form of Zalbag.

"So, brother... Before I send you to hell, let me confirm your suspicions," The Fury noted, his mouth twisting into a rictus that might have been a smile. "Father, Balbanes... He had a chance to make our family great. Yet he threw it away for honor!"

Zalbag's face was growing pale, his sword slowly lifting. At his side, Ramza's own visage was becoming grim and determined, and he mirrored his brother's stance a moment later.

"Yet even the best swordsman cannot fight poison," Adramelk concluded, his eyes narrowing. One hand lifted casually, negligently. Zalbag began a thrust for the demon's heart an instant before Ramza moved, yet he never made it close. Dark energy surrounding him one moment, and the next Zalbag was simply gone. The youngest Beoulve's sword raced for the Lucavi's throat, and was grasped firmly with the thing's hand. It grinned down at Ramza in obscene humor. "Little brother, worry not: I haven't forgotten you."

The crack of our young leader's head snapping back was far too loud, his grip failing on his sword as he flew back from the thing which was once his sibling. It cast aside the blade and grinned as Lavian placed a steadying hand on Ramza as he rose with a shudder.

"Your skills cannot help Ramza down here, girl," Orlandu noted, gazing up at the monster on the balcony. "Your order teaches white magic, doesn't it?"

"A little. Not much," I replied, turning to meet the old man's gaze. He flashed me a grin.

"That'll do. If my ears don't deceive me, Lavian is casting Protect and Alicia is working on a Shell. Why not help out with some Regen for Ramza?" Orlandu quirked an eyebrow at my gaze. "Look, he's the only one crazy enough to try to get within reach of that monster. As good as he is, I think he'll need all the help he can get."

I began to chant as Agrias and Orlandu opened the battle with a pair of Lightning Stabs. True to T.G. Cid's prediction, Ramza drew a pair of ninja edges and charged at Adramelk with a feral scream which shook me to my marrow, yet did not interrupt my spell.

Almost as one, three powerful spells of protection converged on Ramza, scarcely a step or two away from his foe: An instant later and the demon would have benefited from them just as much. Claws met blades even as Bahamut, king of the summons, shattered the ground beneath Agrias and her cohorts, leaving only the holy swordsman standing.

Even with his muscles trembling as he fended off the eldritch being in front of him, Ramza had time to glance back and see the duo's peril.

"Agrias! They come first! I'm fine!" Ramza yelled, wincing as his divided attention allowed the beast he was facing to gash his shoulder. The young blond turned back for a second and repaid the wound with a brutal slice along one of Adramelk's arms, dark blood splashing the ground. "Do it now, Agrias! We can't lose them!"

For once, Ramza's tone would brook no argument. He was no making a suggestion, he was issuing an order: Agrias began to cast Raise even as Ramza's knee rose as our leader employed his impressive jumping ability, snapping the goat's head back and stunning the thing for a second. The blond struck the ceiling feet first, taking a step as his eyes found his target. Adramelk had time to look up as his youngest brother once more employed the unique magic of the dragoon, launching himself downward with inhuman force, ninja edge leading the way.

The Fury bellowed with pain as the powerful blow took off one of his arms, a cry which turned into a shriek as shards of ice pummeled him, courtesy of Orlandu. The man quirked an eyebrow at my confused look as he sheathed his sword.

"Those three girls need our help," he noted simply, pulling me into a run as we moved beneath the balcony and ran up the stairs. He nudged me and gestured towards Ramza. "He has things well in hand, I think."

Even as I began casting the most potent Cure spell I knew on the trio of female knights, I couldn't help but notice that Orlandu's words were true. Without his arm and bearing his injuries, Adramelk was now no match for Ramza's fluid grace. Even that dark energy which killed Zalbag was defeated by the protective spells shielding him, fizzling into nothingness as he stepped towards the demon.

Ramza raised on ninja edge to impale the monster's remaining hand as it swung down on him, spinning away and retrieving his sword with one smooth motion. The other ninja edge flipped in his hand into a position more suited to a main gauche, and as Ramza charged his foe's flank I noticed that that is exactly how he used it.

Even as our wounded compatriots stood, their injuries nothing more than a memory, Orlandu simply waved us off and nodded towards the battle with a smile. What remained was not a battle. It was simple systematic murder. Ramza almost appeared bored as he dodged and weaved through his foe's increasingly desperate attacks, and it was no surprise to anyone but Adramelk himself when, an instant later, the blond boy's sword slid right through the monster's chest.

The Fury dropped to his knees, blood bursting from his mouth as it opened. "Shit! If only the bloody angel were here, this wouldn't have-" Ramza's face was grim as he torqued his body, his ninja edge removing the goat head from demon body as he used the hilt of his sword for leverage.

With burst of lightning, the demon was gone. Only the hole stone remained, floating in the air for a moment before it fell to the ground with a muted clink. And as Ramza sank to his knees, tears flowing down his face, memory overcame shock and I remembered that Adramelk hadn't just killed one of his brothers... He'd been the other one. And Ramza had just killed him.

I was the first by Ramza's side, and he weakly smiled up at me, accepting my hand as I pulled him to his feet. He sheathed his weapons with a casual grace which seemed to deny the grief on his face, and after only a moment he picked up the Capricorn stone.

"Alma. I have to save her," Ramza whispered desperately, more for himself than any of us. The leather of his gloves creaked as he held the stone, and I knew that if I could see his knuckles they would have been bone white. He was silent for a moment, before he seemed to master his emotions. When he next spoke, his voice was calm. "We've delayed it long enough. We march for St. Murond Temple tonight. Vormav will have the answers I need if High Priest Funeral does not."

Without another word, he left the main hall of his ancestral home. Even Orlandu's unflappable calm was shattered, his eyebrows fighting to meet his hairline as he met my gaze. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, the old man finally spoke.

"Well, into the jaws of our enemy we go," he mused, rubbing his jaw. He cocked an eyebrow at the honey blond holy swordsman next to him. "Well, what do you think, wench? You're the one who convinced me to follow that little madman. How does attacking the headquarters of the Church of Glabados sound to you?"

"Do _not _call me wench," Agrias ground out, her fist colliding with Orlandu's shoulder. Despite the heavy armor the man wore, I saw him flinch. She put up her own sword as she began towards the stairs, flashing a smirk over her shoulder. "Besides, we took Bethla without your help, and that's never been done before. There's at least a couple recorded instances of St. Murond Temple being invaded to back us up this time."

"She has a point," Lavian concluded with a chuckle, Alicia grabbing Orlandu's hands and dragging him with her.

I followed silently, remembering once thinking that not everyone within Ramza's band could be insane. Hearing the abused balcony crumble behind me as I shut the door to Igros and pondering recent events, I wondered if perhaps Ramza was, in fact, insane and that his madness was catching.

It was the only explanation I had for these people. A small portion of me wondered just how long it'd take me to catch so that I wouldn't quite be so shocked every time our leader pulled off another impossible act.

oOo

St. Murond Temple was only a week distant. So it was quite the surprise to wake up after camping on Mandalia Plains to Lavian poking me in the side with her sheathed sword quite early in the day. Rubbing one eye, I glared at her with the other.

"Come on, time to get up. It's time to kill Ramza," she explained with a grin, squatting to eye level and flashing me a broad grin.

"Is he really being that strict with our marching schedule?" I asked with a yawn, my arms stretching out, shoulders shifting as I stretched out the last vestiges of sleep.

"No... We're actually going to kill Ramza. Come on, time to get up." Lavian informed me, the look in her face bringing me fully awake. She was smiling, but she was also being serious. I stared at her for a moment before she frowned, casting her gaze over my shoulder. "Hey, Lady Agrias! Tell the newcomer what we're doing today!"

"Time to get up, Meliadoul. Ramza won't kill himself," I spun in my bedroll to gawk at the St. Konoe knight captain as she pulled on the last bits of her armour, and she grinned at the dismay on my face before nodding in Lavian's direction. "Hey, don't look at me like that. Someone has to kill him. I'm hoping it'll be me this time, but Orlandu's got the best shot at it."

"It's true, I would have the best shot at ending the kid, but I'm only going to be helping," Orlandu concluded, now standing next to Lavian, his arms crossed. He shrugged at my incredulous look. "Hey, I am a Heavenly Swordsman. It wouldn't exactly be fair if I took the kill. One of you ladies deserves it."

"And where are we going to be killing Ramza?" I asked, my voice squeaking as I gathered my legs underneath me.

"There's a meadow over that way where he's practicing right now," Agrias informed me, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder.

I really don't know why she was surprised when I shoulder tackled her onto her ass and then bolted in Ramza's direction. The only piece of equipment I'd snatched during my flight was the sword I needed to work my special abilities. Either my former compatriots weren't expecting my loyalty to my new leader or they'd underestimated my speed, but the end result was the same: I was on my way out of camp and running towards Ramza, ignoring the fact I was wearing only a shift.

Despite my state of dress or lack thereof, I was just happy none of the traitors had managed to target me before I'd left their midst.

It only took me moments to come across the blond boy who'd changed my life so much, resting peacefully in the middle of a clearing, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow as he practiced with a rather large axe. I was already chanting a Protect spell as I drew my blade and spun to face the direction of camp as Ramza noticed me.

"Uh, Meliadoul? I'm not sure if you noticed, but you're running around in your underwear," Ramza pointed out, resting the heavy blade on his broad shoulders. A small part of me was rather proud of the way the sight of me was making his face so red. The rest of me was angry that he was focusing on that when clearly, _I wasn't about to run around in nothing but a shift without a very good reason_.

"Precious light, be our armour to protect us! Protect!" I finished, feeling the welcoming embrace of my white magic shield both myself and Ramza. I then glanced at him as I drew my sword. "Ramza, everyone's coming to kill you! We've got to flee!"

"Everyone's coming to kill me?" Ramza repeated, the statement oddly lighthearted. He tilted his head in confusion. "Well, it's about time. I mean, I've been expected it for a while. It wouldn't be fair of them to try it after I've exhausted myself with this axe, you know."

I'm sort of proud that I only dropped my sheath as I turned to stare at Beoulve.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, reaching out to grab his shoulder. "That's absurd! They can't!"

"Sure they can. Agrias will probably get me with her Lightning Stab if Lavian and Alicia don't manage to skewer me," Ramza replied, flashing me a confused look. He shrugged fatalistically. "I mean, I'm good, but I can't quite fight all of them to a standstill. Sooner or later, I am going to die with all of them after me."

"But... But!" My reply was cut off as laughter drifted from the edge of the clearing. Orlandu emerged at the head of our travelling company, all of whom were fully armed and armoured.

"Oh, are you all ready to go?" Ramza asked, scratching the crown of his head. "I thought Meliadoul was going to be helping... So why's she here in her underwear?"

"I told you she'd run to him in her shift," Orlandu noted to Alicia, holding his hand out. The redheaded knight sighed as she plunked a large bag of gil in the older man's hand, glaring at me.

"I didn't think she'd be that naive," the St. Konoe knight grunted sourly, shaking a fist at me. "C'mon, I expected better of a Shrine Knight!"

"Someone explain to me what is going on. Right now!" I growled, levelling my sword towards Orlandu.

"Oh, we _are_ going to try to kill Ramza. He gets to fight us while he's under the effects of a ReRaise spell. Really, we're just helping him develop his skills. Or did you think we were actually planning to kill our poor leader here?" The old man asked innocently. His face was anything but innocent.

"You guys didn't tell her? That's a little mean," Ramza noted from behind me. It was precisely then I realized that I was wearing nothing but my underwear.

In front of Ramza.

_For no good reason at all. _

I ran full-tilt from the clearing, pausing only to grab T.G. Cid by the front of his armor and haul his face inches from my own. I consider it a bit of a compliment that he actually flinched as my eyes bore into his own.

"When I get dressed, you are a _dead man_," I informed him, before releasing him to find my robes and my armor.

Laughter chased me all the way back to camp. It didn't help when Mustadio saluted me as I ran past, a broad smile on his face as he walked towards the plateau where the duel would inevitably take place.

oOo

"Cast ReRaise on me," I growled as I stalked back into the area where our comrades had all gathered. Ramza quirked an eyebrow at me as I tugged sharply on my guantlets, levelling a glare at Orlandu. "They played a dirty trick on me. In fact, let's make a game of it... Everyone gets a ReRaise and when it kicks in, you walk off to the side. The first side to kill everyone is the winner. Fair?"

"Well, it's only fair if I get to compete at my full strength," Orlandu noted, patting his sword with a grin. He quirked a bushy white eyebrow at me. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

I pictured his treasured blade shattering in his hands and grinned.

"Absolutely," I confirmed, Save The Queen snapping out of the sheath at my side as I glared at the old bastard.

It only took moments for the proper spells to be cast. Very shortly, death was only an inconvenience for everyone in our band instead of being a concern. With a shy smile, Rafa moved to the side and relaxed, her magical powers exhausted.

"Well, shall we begin?" Orlandu asked, drawing his blade and flashing me a grin.

"Hellcry Punch!" I yelled, focusing my magic on the old bastard as I swung my blade.

The look on his face was _priceless_.

oOo

Author's Notes:

Poor Meliadoul. I think the thing a lot of stories don't put enough emphasis on is just how crazy Ramza and his band have to appear to some of the latecomers to the game. Agrias and Mustadio (and, by extension, Lavian and Alicia) have all been there from the beginning, Rafa and Malak have their own issues, and Orlandu is more or less jaded...

But Meliadoul has no real reference for just how messed up things can be around these guys. She's the token sane person joining what is really quite the insane undertaking. I've decided not to do the side quests... I'm certainly packing enough prose into this thing that they'll be unnecessary with the characterization I'm giving Ramza's band of misfits.

And... Seriously, don't expect updates this fast ever freaking again. This is supposed to be a damned side-project. Though damn... That was fun to write. Expect more within a month or so, perhaps.

-Gaming Ikari


	4. Chapter 4

Purity Amidst Madness

oOo

Chapter 4

oOo

Orlandu's look of horror lasted only as long as it took me to realize that his sword hadn't detonated into an explosion of golden metal shards. He chuckled darkly, waving the point of the unbroken blade into an infinity arc as it pointed in my general direction.

"A Divine Knight, and nobody's bothered to explain the source of your powers to you?" The Thunder God demanded, one bushy eyebrow quirking over an amused grin. "My dear, if a piece of equipment is taken care of very well, your skills simply can't find the breaking point to explode."

My shock lasted only as long as it took him to thrust at my torso. I twisted my body and torqued my wrist downward to bring my blade into a guard position, guiding the stab to the right of my sternum and leaving my foe off-balance for just a moment. Even though I let go of my sword with my left hand to try to break the old bastard's jaw with a backhand, he dropped to his knees and allowed the spinning fist to pass over his head.

We both spun in opposite directions, our magical blades clashing in a shower of sparks as they collided. Orlandu grinned, the expression somehow terrible, as the full weight of his strength pressed down on me. I was shortly pressed to my knees, despite the trembling of my biceps and the shaking in my thighs. With a cry of desperation, I threw myself to my left, nearly losing my sword as it caught the turf while I tumbled.

Over Orlandu's shoulders, I saw Ramza's axe flashing lightning quick as he battled the rest of our party. Though I didn't have time to admire the specifics of his battle, the fact he'd escaped any wound thus far was especially telling, given the fact I'd heard two shots from Mustadio's gun. Before T.G. Cid had time to renew our battle, I saw Alicia thrown to Rafa's side from an especially brutal blow from my leader's weapon... And I knew she was dead.

Ramza was holding his own.

Further observation was forestalled as my foe charged, twisting as he began a massive thrust from his waist. Despite my dual-handed grip on my blade, he again nearly disarmed me, leaving me open to a vicious strike on my flank.

Only my unwilling collapse to my knees turned the killing thrust into a deflection off my shoulder guards, leaving me to bring my blade up in a powerful vertical slash which Orlandu almost didn't block, throwing him away from me and onto his back. He heels drummed the earth and turned the sprawl into a roll.

Again my eyes went to Ramza. A bloody hole now decorated his tunic at the left bicep, proof of Mustadio's eventual accuracy. Yet despite his injury, Lavian now lay sprawled at her friend's side. Malak was working in conjunction with Agrias to pressure Ramza at close quarters, his staff flashing in between her blade as his rusty melee skills replaced the bursts of pure magic energy he normally employed.

I spun around Orlandu's overhead slash, thrusting my closed fist into his kidneys with all my might as I did so. He fell to his knees, his shield rising to block my follow up slash as he stood back up. He flashed me a grin before he was upon me, and then I learned just why he'd been so feared.

I'd thought that my bladework was good. The Thunder God Cid made me realize just how foolish that notion was. I feel no shame in admitting that I died. I was fighting Orlandu himself, the only man in Ivalice who could lay claim to being the equal of Balbanes. My defeat was a foregone conclusion.

Orlandu bested me, even without employing his Sword Arts. Yet I fought him for longer than most would have. That was the thought on my mind as Death's icy fingers receded from my soul, yet it fled upon awakening to a stand off I'd not expected to see.

Ramza and Orlandu stood across from one another, both wearing the sort of smile a person would normally associate with the mad. Though Orlandu was winded, his opponent was clearly the one at a disadvantage: The Beoulve heir was favouring one side, the giant axe he held up in a defensive position clearly oriented so that he could deflect any attack. Blood streamed from multiple wounds, and I was honestly surprised he was still standing.

"Hey, she's awake!" Lavian called, a small smile decorating her blood-spattered face.

"Whuhuh?" I asked intelligently.

"They're the last two left standing," Alicia noted, her eyes locked on the two men in the center of the field. She nudged me with a foot. "You managed to hold off Orlandu long enough that Ramza dealt with the rest of us. Those two are just about to go at it full tilt."

Wait. I couldn't have heard that correctly.

Ramza _couldn't _have fought them all off.

"I've got five thousand on Ramza, if any of you ladies are willing to take me up on the bet," Mustadio noted with a grin, leaning back against a tree and observing the youngest son of the Beoulve family with what could only be called a hawkish look. "He'll flatten Orlandu, even with his injuries."

Could he?

"Really? I'll take that bet," Alicia exclaimed, reaching out to shake hands with the blond engineer. At his quirked eyebrow, she flashed him a wry grin. "He's facing T.G. Cid, Mustadio. Orlandu's won battles between hundreds of men based solely on his skills."

It seemed impossible. Yet... Nobody was standing except for the two, and they were focused on one another. It wasn't a prank. It was... It was real.

"Lucavi killed by T.G. Cid, zero," Mustadio countered, holding out a closed fist. His other hand leapt from his side, every finger but his pinky extended. "Lucavi killed by Ramza, four. Cid is pretty good, I'll admit... But I haven't seen him kill four of my childhood fears."

Ramza bloody Beoulve, a man younger than me, was now facing T.G. Cid himself after having fought the rest of our party and bloody _defeating _them.

"Lord Orlandu just hasn't had the chance," Lavian opined in a sagacious tone, raising an eyebrow at my incredulous look. "What, you really think that he couldn't have killed them?"

"I'm not sure," I admit. Clearly the girl was good at swordmanship, but not as good as I.

In fact, Orlandu and Agrias aside, I don't think any of my companions quite understood just how frightening Ramza's mastery was. He was better with every weapon he laid a hand to than the _one _I'd spent my life mastering_. _They didn't quite get just how hard it was for a normal soldier to achieve such total mastery that their peers gave them a wary eye.

Perhaps they had no frame of reference. For two years, this insignificant band, less than a score of individuals, had been attacking the most heavily defended areas of Ivalice and they'd been winning without a single loss. Beginning with Agrias' rather miraculous escape from Lionel, this band had not lost a single person. Not _one_. For two years, they'd never had to face the concept of one of their own dying.

And they didn't understand the profound impossibility of that in the face of their accomplishments.

Accomplishments like assaulting Lionel. Like breaking through the Riovanes guard. Like taking the Bethla Sluice long enough to unleash the lake. They didn't understand that they'd been accomplishing things that armies of hundreds had utterly failed to accomplish. They didn't understand that _every one of them _would be infamous in our history if the records were even remotely right.

I wanted to grab them and scream that "No! Nobody is this lucky!"

Yet I couldn't.

I was held in thrall as T.G. Cid circled a man dozens of years his junior. The thing that really caught my attention was the wariness Orlandu displayed. He was not being an indulgent teacher. He was honestly wondering which of the two would win in the oncoming storm.

And that, more than anything, really and truly broke the last pieces of the world I used to know, used to believe in: Orlandu was feared in _every_ end of Ivalice. It was pretty much a rule that if you were a truly powerful warrior, you'd fear the day that Orlandu decided that you were worthy of a challenge. He was the Alpha and the Omega when it came to the qualifications one had as a warrior. You were not measured by victory or defeat, but by the margin of victory the man held over you.

Yet Ramza Beoulve stood with an axe in hand, bleeding from his wounds and struggling to stand, facing an uninjured T.G. Cid and the man who'd been Goltana's general for over twenty years was the one hesitating.

After the first pass, Orlandu was pressing his hand to his side beside Ramza's broad grin.

"Cid, just use your skills," Ramza said, resting his axe on his shoulder. "How am I supposed to face Vormav if I can't counter his abilities?"

Orlandu nodded once, and the whole feel of the battle changed. Frost marked the armor of every one of us as large blocks of ice formed in the air, ready to fall down on Ramza. He glanced up at them contemptuously and hurled his weapon, his axe flashing to shatter the ice into useless shards. Orlandu narrowed his eyes as his sword swung once more, forcing our leader to throw himself into a forward roll which brought him within melee distance of his foe.

His hands flashed through the air lightning-fast, and even Orlandu's magically-enhanced quickness didn't help him deflect the entire flurry of blows. The older man grunted as Ramza slammed his fist into the plate over his chest, actually leaving an imprint of his knuckles on the magic-wrought steel. The blond boy then bodychecked his opponent, forcing him back two steps and dodging out of the way of the counter-swing.

T.G. Cid remembered the axe at the last second, and his arm broke as the falling weapon smashed through his shield. Ramza darted forward ruthlessly, bringing his foot up to meet Cid's jaw. Orlandu spun with the blow at the last instant, robbing it of much of its power and leaving the Beoulve at a serious disadvantage. The grey-haired man grinned as he ruthlessly slashed Ramza's flank, rending chainmail and leaving his young foe clutching his bleeding side.

"You almost got me with the axe, Ramza," Orlandu admitted, quirking an eyebrow as the boy drew a pair of ninja edges from his sleeves.

"Maybe this one will get you," Ramza admitted with a smile. Orlandu only had time to twitch as vines burst from the ground to ensnare his legs, holding him firmly in place. Ramza began to chant. "King of Flames..."

"No you don't!" Orlandu snarled, his sword arm bursting free from the vines to swing down once.

Both men finished their attacks at nearly the same time, though Ramza felt the effects of Orlandu's attack first as a dark red blade impaled him, ripping his life from him while healing his foe. Seconds after his broken arm was healed, Orlandu was pummeled by the rising bursts of flame summoned by the demon floating in the air.

As Orlandu collapsed to his knee with a groan, I knew that the difference in the fight had been that final Night Sword. And for a very obvious reason, my mouth was hanging open. I clacked my jaw shut as Mustadio groaned, stalking up to our resurrecting leader.

"Come on, Ramza! One second earlier and you would have had it!" The ponytailed man chided, offering a hand which the other man gratefully accepted. Mustadio turned to Alicia with a sour smirk. "Double or nothing on the next round?"

"Not a chance," Alicia replied, her voice sounding a little stunned. I noticed that both she and Lavian were now staring at Ramza with very wide eyes. "I'd rather go to the Dead City than take that bet again, thanks."

"Kids have no respect for the abilities of their elders," Orlandu noted with a grimace, forcing himself to his feet.

"What's to respect? Ramza nearly won, old goat," Alicia countered, daring the man to reply.

"Nearly isn't winning," Orlandu concluded smugly, sheathing his sword.

"Care to try me one on one, next time?" Ramza offered, a rare grin on his face.

"I would, but it would seem I have a new project for the next little while," Orlandu noted, sighing as he rolled his eyes at me. I quirked an eyebrow in response, waiting for him to continue. After a moment, he did. "This one shows quite a bit of promise. Enough that I think I'll be including her in my lessons with Agrias and the other two wenches."

"I've warned you about that," Agrias noted darkly, her fist darting out to crash against Cid's shoulder with a loud clatter. "I've told you: Stop calling me a wench!"

"As soon as you lose the breasts and those hips, I will," Orlandu retorted quickly.

"There's more to a woman than breasts and hips!" Alicia protested, fists resting against her waist as she glared at the old man.

"I know that. But I doubt Agrias can just _lose_ her ability to cook and clean," T.G. Cid pointed out, rolling his eyes theatrically. Despite his apparent lack of interest, he spryly dodged out of the way as the honey-blond swordswoman's blade cleared it's sheath and nearly beheaded him. He flashed the woman a grin. "Hey now, we're supposed to just be sparring when I teach, Agrias. Non-lethal blows."

"Except you're under the effects of Reraise, still," I pointed out, slowly drawing my own blade. "Even if none of us have the strength of cast a Raise spell, it's not really killing you if we take things a little too far."

"Hey now..." Orlandu muttered, his eyes widening and his grin freezing.

"It'd be good practice for us," Lavian noted, her own sword snapping out in the same instant Alicia's did.

Lightning slashed through the air where Orlandu had stood only an instant before, and the old bastard was already sprinting for the trees as he chugged one of the potent healing potions he always kept stashed in his pouch.

The four of us were after him an instant later. Of course, we quickly learned the error of our ways. Having just seen the man brought to the verge of defeat and empowered by our own righteous rage, we forgot just what sort of man we were chasing.

It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to wipe us out to a woman, bringing us all back with a phoenix down and just whistling to himself as he made his way back to camp.

We learned our lesson: The man still had a lot to teach us, and if we came at him like that he'd be happy to do it at the expense of our pride.

He didn't learn his lesson the next morning, when Lavian dumped a bucket of water on his sleeping head, cooled by low-level magic to the point that a thin sheet of ice had formed at the top.

oOo

Although we did our best to keep things light-hearted, even I, new to the group, recognized that most of it was an act designed to keep us from thinking about the newest bit of insanity our fearless leader was taking us towards.

It's probably a mark of my own growning madness, caught from my new companions, that I was actually looking forward to hearing Ramza's plan as we gazed at St. Murond Temple.

"Orlandu and Meliadoul should take point," Ramza finally said, glancing at us. At my raised eyebrow, he explained, "You know the layout, so you can lead us through the temple to Funeral's quarters. Cid can keep you out of trouble."

I thought about pointing out that this presumed that we'd actually get through the outer defenses, then realized everybody but myself was assuming that we would. I didn't even think about disputing that Cid could keep me out of trouble: I was a skilled Shrine Knight for my age, but there were others with far more experience who would easily outclass me. I expected that we would meet at least one or two.

I hoped none would be my father. Or the demon wearing his face, rather.

"Agrias. You, Lavian, and Alicia will be guarding our rear. I want a group capable of preventing anyone from interfering if we have to fight, and you three form a pretty solid wall," Ramza noted, not noticing the way Alicia's face pinked a bit at the praise. "Mustadio, you'll be with them. With the long, tight corridors, you're not going to be much good attacking. Defending is an entirely different matter, I think."

"A nice, long hallway where I have plenty of time to line up my shots and people running towards us have nothing to hide behind? I like it." His grin turned nasty as he pulled an unfamiliar gun from his backpack, twirling it with a flourish. "I don't have much ammo for this, but have you ever noticed that magic always has a bigger effect on the faithful?"

"Why would that matter to you?" I wondered, eyeing the weapon.

"It fires Ice spells. Better range, no casting time, no getting tired or running out of magic," the blond engineer noted gleefully. Considering what we were about to walk into, I thought the look a bit disturbing. However, the advantage of such a weapon was obvious.

"Where did you get something like that?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Balk. I took it from that bastard's corpse when he ambushed us," Mustadio finished.

Well, that was one Shrine Knight we wouldn't have to worry about running into, I supposed. I hadn't known that his gun could do that.

"Let's focus," Ramza chided with a smile. "Rafa, Malak and myself will form the core, capable of supporting either the rear guard or the point. I've brushed up on my summoning and I'll be taking along a few katanas, so I won't have to worry about friendly fire.

"You two will, unfortunately," Ramza continued, turning to the two dusk-skinned siblings. "Rafa, Malak, do your best to keep your powers under control. Err on the side of caution, if you have to. I'd rather you miss an opponent than hit him and Meliadoul as well."

"Ramza, do you remember what I told you about my abilities?" Malak asked, frowning.

"Right, I'd forgotten," our blond leader said, shaking his head. "Do what you can. Don't target any priests, and be ready to keep anyone who gets past either the point or the rear from getting too near your sister."

The short man nodded, absently gripping his bo-staff a little tighter.

I noticed Orlandu exchanging a look with Agrias, noted the pride on his face. The plan was certainly a good one.

Thus, our plans set, we marched on the main gate of St. Murond Temple. The seat of power for both the Glabados Church and the Shrine Knights. Our band of eight against a fortified compound filled with thousands of the most powerful mages, warriors, and holy swordsmen in Ivalice.

I knew in that instant that my madness was complete and had no more to grow: I was looking forward to the coming battle.

oOo

Author's Notes:

Oh Orlandu, you're so sexist. I have never seen a character with so much potential wasted so thoroughly. Count 'em up: From his introduction to the end of the game, he gets a grand total of 24 lines. 23 if "..." doesn't count as one.

-Gaming Ikari


	5. Chapter 5

Purity Amidst Madness

oOo

Chapter 5

oOo

To call our assault on the chosen gate of St. Murond Temple a fight is an insult to battles everywhere. Two surprised mediators took a look at us and began wildly firing their guns, while a pair of geomancers rushed to engage us supported by a summoner and a priest.

Mustadio began counter-sniping with his gun, and within three shots his targets were down. Orlandu and Ramza both cut down the geomancers almost without breaking stride, I personally took down the priest by filling his robes with destructive magic and exploding the cloth all around him, and Agrias impaled the summoner with a lightning blade before they could even finish their first spell.

And with that, we were within the halls. Even there, resistance was minimal. Orlandu's skill with his sword, and the speed with which he wielded it, was such that whenever we encountered a foe ahead of us in the hallways he had already drawn and clubbed them unconscious with the flat of his heavy blade. My role in the whole matter was simply to guide us towards the chambers of High Priest Funeral.

It's funny to think that amidst all our preparations, including taking a roundabout route to the chambers, we'd run into the last three Shrine Knights I ever expected to see.

Rofel was the one who'd trained me as a Divine Knight whenever my father couldn't be bothered, and he'd been at the job for years when I was born. It's an understatement to say that he was freakishly strong, and his speed was more than a match for my own. Defeating him was a task beyond me on my best day.

Kletian was not much older than me, but his mastery of magic was astounding. Black magic or white, he could pick up in days what took most people weeks or months to learn, if learning such was even within their capability. I had once seen him cast a Shell spell strong enough to block most of a Bahamut, which he'd followed up by using a Protect to take a dragoon's leap without flinching. And everybody within the church knew that his offensive magic was more powerful than his defensive magic.

Dominating my attention, however, was my father. Though he was a Divine Knight like myself and Rofel, he'd somehow learned to push enough power into his abilities that they could effect even those without equipment or armor. To say that he's the strongest Divine Knight in history is no lie. The instant his eyes found me, his lip curled into an awful sneer and his eyes grew even colder than ever.

"Daughter," my father's voice sounded amused as his gaze drifted to Orlandu, who'd already leveled his magnificent blade in the direction of the three Shrine Knights in front of us. "I'd heard that you failed to kill Ramza. I hadn't heard that you'd joined the whelp, however."

"Father..." I began, trembling. Remembering the past few weeks and all the confusion, I let my anger creep into my voice, allowed it to stiffen my spine and strengthen my resolve. "Is what Ramza says true? Did you really kill Izlude?"

My father paused, before shaking his head.

"Izlude was always smarter than you, Meliadoul. He was always willing to ask questions. He was even stupid enough to get in my way at Riovanes," my father... no, Vormav concluded. I fought the urge to sink to my knees, fought the tears threatening to spill from my eyes. "You've always disappointed me, Meliadoul. You'll also die at my hand, but you were too stupid to even figure things out yourself. Die clueless, then."

"Be ready, girl! I can't do this on my own!" Orlandu hissed, prompting my hand to reach lethargically for my blade.

"Orlandu, Meliadoul! We've got a battle group coming from behind!" Ramza's voice called, and a second later he entered the hallway himself. At his entrance Vormav paused, motioning for his two cohorts to do the same.

"Ramza, it's... interesting to meet you," Vormav grinned, taking a step forward. "Forgive me, I don't have time for pleasantries, so let's get down to business: If you want your sister back alive, you'll give me the scriptures and the stones. If you don't, she dies. Hand them over, now!"

Ramza froze for an instant, shooting me a quick look. I shook my head in return: I could grieve about this later. Right now, our leader needed to focus on something he could change instead of events that had already passed.

"Where's Alma? Unless you show me her now, I'll not hand over the scriptures or the stones!" Ramza snapped, punctuating his statement by drawing the samurai blade sheathed at his side. At our leader's side, Orlandu readied himself to strike, his eyes tracking the enemy leader's every movement.

I knew a fight was going to break out any second. I wouldn't hesitate, as I had when facing Dycedarg and his men. I wouldn't be useless, as I had been when Ramza faced Adramelk. I shoved my doubts aside and drew my own blade, readying myself to meet Rofel's eventual charge.

"Didn't you hear me? You have no choice," Vormav spat, taking another step forward and holding out his free hand. "I'll say it again: Hand them over!" Ramza paused indecisively before reaching into his pack and grabbing an old, beaten leather book. He took a step forward and placed it on the ground, keeping his eyes on the trio facing us at all times.

"Only the scriptures! I'll give you the stone only after I see Alma!" Ramza declared, his feet sliding out as he prepared himself for battle. Rofel moved forward to take the book, and Ramza muttered to Cid, "They're not even trying to pretend they're going to give Alma back, are they?"

"Judging by the grin on Vormav's face, I'd say not. I never liked him, anyway," Orlandu concluded, before casting me a slight grin. "No offense, wench."

"He's not my favourite person right now either, old goat," I replied, though I couldn't find it in myself to put any humour into the comment. I glanced to Ramza. "What are the chances of any of our friends coming through that door to give us better odds?"

"Not good," Ramza admitted with a slight shrug. "A couple holy swordsmen decided to join the party with a group of mages and some squires, and Agrias and the girls needed all the help they could get. I was actually coming up to see if you two could come help us back there."

"So how do we like these odds? I can handle Vormav pretty easily, but... He _will _take up most of my attention," Cid admitted, warily eyeing Rofel as the latter paged through the Scriptures. "Wench, who do you like better, big and surly or the pretty little waif at the back?"

"Ramza probably has better odds at neutralizing Kletian's magic," I admitted, though I winced a second later. "Of course, Rofel trained me and is far stronger than anybody has a right to be. I can keep him occupied and I doubt his powers will work on me now that I know how to prepare my equipment, so I might be able to use that to slip in a strike or two."

"You're welcome for that," Orlandu noted loftily.

"Well?" Vormav demanded, his eyes never leaving us.

"It's here. It's a simple curse," Rofel said quietly, snapping the book shut and putting it in a sachel at his waist.

"Well, looks like we don't need these three any longer, then," Vormav concluded, his blade leveled at the trio. He shrugged, almost apologetically. "I could let you go, but Velius and the others deserve vengeance."

"Bastard!" Ramza yelled, closing with his foe. Vormav's blade snapped down and then back up in a mighty upswing, intended to cleave the blond Beoulve in half. Rather than attempting to counter, our leader leaped over him, landing between Kletian and the man I used to call father as his hand touched a sheathed katana at his side. "Verse of Oblivion!"

Kletian cried out in horror as Ramza closed on him, the magical Protect spell shielding him visibly weakening as the blond's draw out technique sapped his magic power.

And then I was too busy to see more, Rofel closing in on me with his heavy blade. Despite gripping my own sword quite firmly, the first blow he leveled my way nearly tore it from my grasp. I spun with the blow, desperation fueling the strength in my fingers as I brough my sword around in a powerful blow which the older Divine Knight facing me deflected with ease.

I rolled forward underneath the downward slash of his blade as I regained my balance, turning as soon as I regained my feet and putting my whole body behind the thrust as my eyes tracked Rofel's spin. Unfortunately for the bastard in Vormav's employ, he wasn't quite fast enough to dodge the strike entirely, the thrust deflecting off the back of his armour to gash his flank.

A stench filled the air which took me only a moment to recognize, as my memories flitted back to the two demons who'd lain on the floor of Marquis Elmdor's recieiving room. The nasty grin on his face distracted me from the conversation Ramza was having with Vormav while Cid temporarily distracted Kletian.

"So, you've figured it out? Not that it'll help you," Rofel admitted, stretching as his muscles temporarily bulged obscenely beneath his armour. He swung the sword he held in his hand experimentally, the blade producing an ominous sound as it rent the air in front of him. "I'm glad I can stop holding back. You were a fair student, girl, but nothing more than a distraction. I guess I should be a good teacher and remove you from this world myself."

I felt a familiar hum in the air, feeling the way his soul interacting with the magic of his blade to prepare him for the strike of a Divine Knight. A small part of me wondered how a demon without a soul could even use the Sword Arts, but I quickly filed the thought away as tossed my shield to the side, gripping the heavy knight blade with both hands and crouching low as I prepared my charge.

In a straight fight, I had no chance against this monster. Even had he possessed the strength of a regular human, he would have been an opponent beyond my own talent. With his demonic strength, he was very clearly toying with me. Yet I knew that what he was preparing to do would leave him dangerously vulnerable, if only for a moment.

My only hope in living beyond the next minute was to take advantage of his momentary weakness. Either I would be successful, or I would die. In the corner of my eye I could see Ramza pressuring Kletian's impressive defensive magic, leaving him unable to counter-attack. Likewise Orlandu dueled with Vormav, only the magic of his enchanted sword allowing him to keep pace with the creature wearing my father's likeness.

If I failed, neither of these two men would be able to help me. If I failed, Rofel would kill me.

I smiled as Rofel swung his sword down, attempting a Hellcry Punch. The invisible magic arced between us, and had I not been a Divine Knight I wouldn't have noticed the heavy, invisible magic strike the blade in my hands as I charged my foe.

I did notice. The magic struck, fighting to find some purchase on my weapon as I began my swing. The magic failed, and I saw the way Rofel's eyes widened at the way his own attack had failed. Terribly fast, his blade, rose up to deflect my overhead swing... A move I'd anticipated from him the moment I began my assault.

I tilted my blade, turning the momentum from his attack to my advantage as I spun with the force, taking a step to the side and spinning in a horizontal slash. I misjudged his own speed, as instead of beheading him like I'd planned, the tip of my sword merely bit deeply into his neck and splashed his hellish blood all over the floor. His eyes widened in shock as his hand raced to his damaged throat, but I saw no reason to stop.

He hadn't stopped moving yet.

I continued my spin, my own Divine energies shaking restlessly as I brought my sword down and loosed my magic towards my foe. Rofel felt what was coming even as my Shellbust Stab struck him dead center in the chest.

Unfortunately for him, he didn't take nearly as good care of his equipment as I did mine. The explosion threw him at Vormav's feet, twitching weakly.

"We won't be stopped this close to victory! Kletian, escape!" Vormav commanded, grabbing Rofel's shoulder and teleporting them both away. An instant later, Kletian followed.

"Vormav, quit running you bastard!" Ramza roared, running through the only other door in the room. Cid and I exchanged quick glances and followed.

When Cid and I caught up with Ramza, he was already crouched next to the leader of Ivalice's spiritual community, High Priest Funeral. A large sword stuck obscenely from the man's back and I felt awe at the fact the man was even still living.

"Do you know where they went?" Ranma asked quietly, reaching a hand out to rest it on the dying man's.

"Or... Orbonne..." Funeral gasped, his breath fading into a rattle as he finally expired.

I could have revived him. For that matter, Ramza could have. Yet neither of us made a move to do so as we hurried away to go save our friends. As we ran, I did happen to glance over at Ramza.

"Orbonne Monestary..." Ramza growled as we emerged into a large hallway. The location seemed to have some special meaning for him, and I resolved to ask about it when we made it away from St. Murond Temple.

When.

Not If.

I grinned to myself as I burst through the entryway to the hallway where the sounds of battle already echoed frantically from the stone. Rafa was frantically casting a Revive on Mustadio as we entered, and Agrias was currently wading through a group of four knights, her rage and pure obstinacy apparently keeping her from being overwhelmed as she fought her way to Lavian's downed form. On the other side, Alicia and Malak were all that stood between a second battle group and our friends' total annihilation.

We'd arrived just in time.

Ramza wasted no thoughts on anything but saving one who was about to be lost to us as soon as he realized that Agrias wouldn't make it to Lavian in time. A quick leap landed him squarely in the heart of the enemy formation, where our friend lay, and a phoenix down was dropped on her still form even as Ramza ate into our foes like a cancer.

Likewise, I lent my strength to Alicia's flagging resolve, nearly cutting one of her foes in half as a Protect spell spilled from my lips to shield the pair of us, and Malak as well. Orlandu wasn't far behind me, a Black Mage in the enemy's rear ranks falling to his powerful arts.

Once the three of us joined the battle, the tide quickly turned. Though we were battered and nearly broken, we pulled our friends from the jaws of death and fought our way free of St. Murond Temple with the same numbers with which we entered.

Glancing at Ramza's relieved face as we made camp, hours later, I knew he wouldn't have forgiven himself if it had been any other way.

oOo

Author's Notes:

This is a battle that had a lot of potential which was, unfortunately, cut short by the designer's lack of any ability to balance the player's enemies against their objectives. What should have been an epic struggle with Ramza's group of warriors fighting THREE highly-trained Shrine Knights, plays out to be someone hitting Kletian with a halfway damaging attack in round one, and three of the most supposedly badass enemies in the game retreat because the mage has a boo-boo.

Likewise, the dialogue between Meliadoul and Vormav is pretty epicly BAD, in either translation, and seemed to imply that the demons replace the holders totally... Something that's clearly not the case. So I decided to switch things up a bit there.

I'm very glad to have corrected those oversights here, and I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And no... You'll notice that I skipped the Zalbag fight entirely. No point in bringing back something that was obviously a filler fight when it's rather plain that Vormav is an evil bastard already.

Also... I've got a poll on my profile. If you like me writing FFT stuff, go check it out and give me your input.

-Gaming Ikari


	6. Chapter 6

Purity Amidst Madness

oOo

Chapter 6

oOo

I awoke to the sound of Cid grumbling in his sleep. I'm not sure why it woke me up, but I decided to cast an eye across the camp before going back to sleep. Over by the fire, Lavian chatted quietly with Mustadio as the pair filled second watch, while the rest of my companions slept peacefully...

Save one.

Ramza's bedroll was empty. I sat up, suddenly awake at the realization. I tossed aside my blanket, unconsciously grabbing my sword as I got to my feet and slipping the sheathed blade through the sash tying my nightclothes together. Mustadio caught my eye and tilted his head towards the path to Gariland.

We'd made it halfway to the city before Ramza had called the halt, pushing us hard after the fight we'd faced at St. Murond Temple. In fact, he'd been especially harsh in the way he pushed us, I realized. Reflecting on the look as I walked along the path to where he now wasted his sleeping hours, I recognized the look on his face as he pushed us for just one more mile, as something I'd never seen, not once, made itself plain on his youthful visage: Desperation.

Desperate had never described Ramza Beoulve, I realized with a startling chill. Not once had he even seemed to entertain the thought of defeat. Beside my sudden realization, I placed my memories of his deeds. Deeds such as dueling Lucavi, T.G. Cid, and assaulting temples and small fortresses which had not seen enemy forces within their halls for decades, if not centuries.

So it was with great trepidation that I slowly advanced along the dirt path, gently pushing aside tree branches as I made my way through the wilderness.

"_I can help you save her," _a voice whispered beside me, and I spun to find nothing beside me, nobody even close.

Another voice interrupted, _"No, let me. Your dear sister can be back with you, if you only take my power!"_

I was sure, then, that I must be going mad. I ignored the voices as I continued my midnight journey, pausing as I broke through the brush leading to a clearing. In the middle of the grassy plain stood Ramza, clutching one of the Holy Stones tightly in one hand, his head bowed forward. My heart leapt to my throat as I realized that the rest of the Holy Stones this young man had gathered were slowly circling him, casting their own pale light as the moonlight from on high turned his eyes into pits of the darkest shadow.

"_Alma can be yours again," _a voice assured him.

"_Vormav will be as nothing beside your power if you take me in your hand and open your heart to me,"_ another promised.

"_I will give you the strength to shatter Orbonne to the foundation and rip your sister from the pretender's arms!" _Proclaimed a third.

All the while, Ramza's fingers just shook with the strength he squeezed the stone in his hands with.

"_Even if she's dead, I can bring her back to you,"_ one voice promised after a long pause. _"I brought back Rafa's brother, Malak. You know that this power is mine to grant to you. Worry not for your sister and put your faith and your trust within me."_

Ajora damn me if that wasn't tempting. I thought of my own brother, lost to Vormav's machinations. Had that promise been made to me, I would have been hard pressed to refuse it. Izlude, back to life and as energetic as ever instead of a cold corpse buried in some unmarked mass grave outside of Riovanes. My heart leapt to my throat.

"_She could be back with you. Always within your sight and close enough for you to protect. With just your meager power, you've already fought Hashmalum to a standstill. With any one of us, nothing in Ivalice, not the Nanten and Hokuten combined, could stand in your way," _an insidious voice put in, and I saw Ramza's eyes clench in their sockets as the blond boy flinched.

The stones floated silently as Ramza clenched one of them to his chest, the only sound in my ears the creaking of his leather glove as his fingers sought to crush the thing in his grasp.

"_Take us all up. Shatter the ground where you walk and make your enemies fear the day they ever crossed you. Alma will forever be protected by you, you can steal Ovelia from Delita's hands, and rule Ivalice as it should be ruled! A kind and just nation, bowing to your every will!" _The final voice promised, to the cheering of the other stones.

The noise of Ramza's stressed leather gloves ceased, and I knew the Beoulve had reached his decision.

My hand found my hilt as I prepared myself to die. Greater men than Ramza had succumbed the the lure of the stones. As my blade slowly rasped on the sheath, my mind idly wandered as I tried to imagine just was this young man before me could do with the power of the stones backing him. He had nearly dueled T.G. Cid already, and that was without the magical or physical boost they granted him.

With them, he would be unstoppable. Nothing in existence could stop him, and as his hands relaxed I knew he knew it. He knew all he needed to do was give in, and Alma would be his for the taking. As would Ivalice and everything else he'd ever desired.

"No," the Beoulve's quiet voice spoke, and my fingers went nerveless.

"_Without us, you will-"_ one voice began, only to be interrupted.

"Without you, I might lose her. But if I dared to take you, she would lose her soul. With you I could save everyone _but_ her," Ramza stated, forcing the stone into his pouch. The rest dropped to the ground with dull thuds as the blond boy's voice caught and he choked back a sob. "I'll walk into Hell unarmed and alone before a single hair on her head is harmed."

The stones lost their shine and became nothing more than that which I'd seen ever them as, as Ramza sank to his knees.

I had seen him unarmed in the past, both the first time I'd ever fought him and many times more. I'd seen him without his armour or even the blue shirt he currently wore a few times when we'd camped near enough to a stream that he, Mustadio, Cid, and Malak could sneak away to bathe.

Yet...

I'd never seen him as naked as I was seeing him in that moment.

"You can stop tempting me. I've seen the yield of the fruit you offer," Ramza declared, gathering the stones and forcing them into his belt pouch. He glanced up at the bright moon as he rested a hand on the bulging sack hanging from his waist, squeezing tightly. "I will save Alma with the strength of my friends and the strength of my own conviction and nothing else. I will take no poisoned fruit to nurture my sister with. She only remains as pure and as innocent as I do, if I'm to take responsibility for saving her."

"_Without us, you will fall," _a serpentine voice promised darkly.

"With you unleashed, Ivalice will fall. You'll see the bottom of the ocean before I use you to rescue Alma or allow you any more influence," Ramza muttered, abruptly sitting, his legs crossed.

And it was then that I finally understood why the cagey old bastard teaching me swordplay had kept pushing me towards this young man. Ramza's focus was solely on saving his sister, perhaps rightfully so... but without that goal, he would be directionless. Easy for the Lucavi to influence, with the stones gathered at his belt pouch. And I knew that without somebody to love with the ferocity with which he loved his sister, he would become easy prey, no matter his strength.

My sword dropped to the dirt as I considered the young man, wondering if I dared to be the pillar which he relied on for his strength. I liked him well enough for all the short time I'd known him. Yet... How could I admit that I was falling in love with a man I'd known only weeks?

His prowess in battle, I'll admit, was no small lure. I doubted I would ever meet his equal. Yet there was more than that to him. The shy manner in which he dealt with everyone in our group, the way he was so soft outside of the deadliest of our battles. The hardness which emerged only when he needed to make a tough decision or face a foe outside of mortal comprehension. The selfless dedication to a sister involved in political and spiritual machinations beyond her comprehension.

He was a creature who was solid as a diamond, but much like one, he had deep-seated faults which could unmake him with the wrong sort of pressure. Much as I could appreciate his good aspects, I was forced to realize that any woman who decided to claim him would have to be as strong as was, if not stronger.

She would have to be firm enough to deal with his softness, yet yield to his harder side. A constant battle of wills with a man who was both the hardest man in Ivalice and more soft than a child fresh off his mother's apron strings. What woman could want that?

Yet...

I thought on the matter further. Orlandu must have seen the boy's faults far quicker than I had. I considered that beside the way he'd dismissed Agrias and Rafa already.

Agrias was, by herself, far too tough and grounded to deal with Ramza. She was always so serious and tightly wound that she would run roughshod over any moments of weakness the boy displayed. Without meaning to, she would be an overbearing harpy over-riding the young man at any sign of hesitation... Leaving him crippled, unable to make the sort of decisions he'd been forced to make.

Rafa was the polar opposite, perhaps even broken and unable to speak her mind to a man. She flinched whenever anyone with a voice baritone or lower spoke, and even Ramza's voice caused her to shrink into herself if she wasn't expecting him to speak. She wouldn't provide the sort of counter-support that the young man needed through life, always agreeing with him until he lead them both into their death.

I resented the old bastard making the decision that I was right for the sole remaining Beoulve man. I could decide for myself what I wanted, what sort of man I felt right for me. T.G. Cid or not, Orlandu had no right deciding my husband for me and pushing me towards him the way he had. His innocent comments and lewd jokes took on a whole new meaning as I filtered them through the perception of a battle-hardened strategist very intimately involved in knowing just how to push another mind into making a decision or taking a certain path.

A rustle at my side interrupted my chain of thought. I'm not even sure I should have been surprised in the least to find the old goat standing beside me.

"I've seen him fight them off like that two or three times, now. Agrias has done as much a dozen times. Neither of us has had the stupidity to drop our blades the way you have," Orlandu admitted somberly. I couldn't help but notice the way his hand casually gripped the hilt of the blade in his sheath. "You've seen what he can do. I'll not step forward when he's like this. "

He paused, flashing me a slight smile.

"Anything else is in your hands."

With that, he was gone back towards camp. Ramza hadn't noticed us, having sunk to his knees and clutched his sword in one hand, the Zodiac stone clutched tightly to his heart. With one hand, Ramza clenched his defiance of the evils being offered to him, yet... With the other, he clearly desired to take up that power.

Under the moonlight, for the first time, I saw what a truly broken individual Ramza Beoulve was. He was pitiful. His frame shook with the weakness inherent in him. The fact that he'd stood against the forces he had for as long as he'd remained stalwart was a miracle of its own.

I reclaimed my blade as I stood, pausing for only a moment before I made my decision.

He'd fought for this entire country. Honestly speaking, the fight he'd chosen to take up against the will of his brothers, against the will of his superiors, against the will of every noble in Ivalice, it was a fight I myself had chosen to take up when I'd made the decision to be a Shrine Knight.

In the face of everything, I could no longer deny my feelings for the man in front of me. I brushed aside the branches seperating me from the clearing where, once again, he'd defied beings beyond my comprehension to make his own mark on the world. I said nothing as I gathered his confused form in my arms, hugging him tight.

It was only a moment or two before he hugged me back, just as strong.

oOo

Author's Notes:

Damn. I think I broke the WAFF setting on my writing. As far as FFT is concerned, anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

Purity Amidst Madness

oOo

Chapter 7

oOo

In the morning, things were a lot muddier. It had all seemed so clear on that night, watching the Holy Stones tempt Ramza and going to comfort him as I had. We hadn't said anything to one another, simply clutching one another for an indeteriminate amount of time before making our way back to camp, too embarrassed to speak the feelings we'd finally seemed to acknowledge. I'd bedded down in my blankets sure that in the morning, we could talk about things.

What a colossal fool I can be. I hadn't realized that last night had been special, not only for the way that it opened my eyes to what sort of man Ramza is and the sort of woman I am, but in the way it broke down the barriers between us and allowed us those moments of naked truth.

One look at me had Ramza's face bright red and the rest of him scurrying to find something to do on the other end of camp. I was too busy trying to hide the burning of my own cheeks to even begin to search for the words to express what we had exchanged last night.

Cid, the horrible man that he is, took a single look at the both of us and filled the clearing with his booming laughter.

oOo

The lingering warm feelings from the night before were gone by the time we got to Gariland. Ramza informed everyone that they would have an hour to do as they liked, including one last chance to mail any letters that they wanted to mail before we struck out for Orbonne Monastery. We were to meet at The Golden Chocobo Inn when our time was finished.

It was then I realized I had nobody to whom I could write one last missive.

We were going to kill my fath- No, Vormav. Rofel, my former teacher, would get in our way and force us to kill him, too. My brother was long since dead at Vormav's hands. Any other friends I had were too casual to entrust with what might be my final thoughts.

Even Ramza, his family dead or captured, had someone to whom he could write. I wandered off alone, sitting at the edge of one of the city's many canals to stare into the water. The pop of a cork leaving a bottle interrupted my meditation, and I turned to see Orlandu settle down next to me with a soft sigh.

"You've got nobody to send anything to either, hmm?" T.G. Cid asked, oddly somber despite the grin on his face. He took a pull of the bottle, before offering it to me. I glared at the thing.

"It's not yet noon," I told him with an eyebrow raised. His smile just broadened, and I finally shrugged and grabbed the bottle, muttering, "Oh, why not..."

Whatever it was burned like brandy, but also chased that heat with a dry warmth I'd never had the misfortune of experiencing. I coughed, and the vicious old bastard sitting beside me carefully retrieved the bottle as he chuckled.

"Ordallian Rye will do that to you every time, especially if you just swig it like that! Has no one taught you anything, woman?" The old man asked with a grin, his eyes sparkling in delight.

"What, don't you have a letter to send?" I tried to hiss, but had enough problems keeping myself from coughing to put any real inflection into it.

"Not at all. The only person I care to send anything to is just as caught up in all of this as I am," Cid replied with a shrug, adding, "And he's met Ramza before: He knows the truth of the boy and knows what sort of man I am. My son already knows everything he needs to about the situation, and he's smart enough and tenacious enough to dig up the rest if we don't make it."

"You have a son?" I asked, one eyebrow raised. "What woman hated herself enough to marry you?"

"A wonderful woman who'd already gone through the pain of childbirth once and would have wanted nothing to do with it a second time, even had she the ability," Orlandu returned with a sad smile. "Olan's mother Theresa was a vile-tongued harpy of a woman, and I'd trade everything to have those five short years with her once more."

"I can't imagine how you managed to trick a woman into marrying you," I admitted, taking the bottle as it was offered to me. This time, I took a far more cautious sip. My head was feeling a little bit larger than it actually was, and I recognized that I'd have to exercise extreme care to avoid becoming drunk.

"It was hate at first sight, actually. She and a band of gypsies out of Ordallia were squatting on the land of one of Goltana's eastern estates, nearly twenty years ago, now. Goltana heard about it and sent a group of men to send them running, but they returned white-faced and speaking of magic beyond the pale of even a calculator in his prime, wielded by a woman tossing around time magic," Cid said, grinning. "Of course, that caught my attention. So I took a few men and checked it out."

"And?" I asked, passing him the bottle. He took a swig and offered it back to me, though I shook my head, declining the offer.

"Ever seen a dancer at work?" The cloaked man asked, quirking an eyebrow above a grin.

"You're a pig," I returned, frowning.

"Not like that," Cid returned with a mock-fierce glower. "The ones who are useful for combat instead of for withdrawing a man's money from his clutches without actually _being _harlots."

"Oh, I see. In that case, yes, I have. I still stand by my previous statement," I informed him after a short pause, grabbing the bottle and taking another cautious sip.

"Fair enough," Orlandu admitted with a chuckle. "Well, Theresa had a family skill that let her hit everyone for quite a distance. Not the weak dancer skills, either. She could combine the best magic of a Time Mage with the ability to hit all her enemies. When we got there, she and my men clashed a bit. I pulled them back before they could really go at it, and Theresa did the same."

"How come?" I asked, taking another small sip before passing the bottle back.

"I'd come equipped to deal with her time magic so she was aware that I'd be quite the pain to deal with, and I knew her people could get to mine before I could stop them all. It was a stalemate," the old man noted, raising the bottle to his lips then grinning and speaking instead of sipping. "We decided to settle it with talk instead of battle. She'd brought a bottle of rye much like this with her and soon into negotiations we decided to open it to help deal with the headache of what we were doing.

"I woke up the next morning with a wife, a son, and sixty gypsies who were making preparations to take up residence on one of _my_ estates," Cid finished, chuckling before taking another swallow from the bottle. At my incredulous look, he shrugged. "She scared me, and I knew I'd have to take off the jade defense armlet some time. The fact she was quite the exotic beauty, even at her age, certainly helped."

"She had professional mediator training, didn't she," I deadpanned, causing him to chuckle.

"I'll admit that I didn't learn that until a year into our marriage. She told me it wasn't my fault I'd come poorly equipped to a battle of her choosing," Cid admitted with a final shrug, getting to his feet. He offered a hand, which I took. Despite knowing what he was capable of, he still surprised me with the ease with which he pulled me to my feet. "Are you feeling a little better?"

"I suppose I am," I admitted with a blink. I frowned a bit, thinking about what had gotten me into my sour mood in the first place. My next question was one of idle curiousity, rather than the resentment or jealousy it would have been a short while ago. "Do you know who Ramza is sending a letter to?"

"Ah, that. That one's simple... Ramza's sending the trio of Hokuten he has running all over Ivalice a note telling them where he's going and offering them the chance to refuse his latest bout of madness," Cid replied with a cheery grin.

"After everything, he's telling them they can just go home?" I demanded, incredulous. "Why would they even leave after everything?"

"He's made the offer to all of us save you, I expect," T.G. Cid informed me. "I imagine were anyone else but Vormav involved, he would have given you the same option. However, even he's not stupid enough to tell you you can just walk away.

"Even if he was stupid enough to make the offer to Agrias," Orlandu added, my head snapping to him in surprise. I could well imagine how that conversation went.

"Did she yell at him?" I asked, grinning a bit.

"Of course not," Cid scoffed. After a pause, a grin fought its way onto his face. "Though I will admit that for someone who has never trained as a monk, Agrias has an absolutely beautiful punch. Had Lavian not taken pity on the boy and cast a Cure spell, he'd have a perfect example of a black eye right now."

"I imagine everyone else had a similar reaction?" I pondered, following the cloaked man as we made our way through the city.

"I do believe young Mustadio put it best: 'Ramza's not allowed to finish things without us, otherwise the history books might actually believe he could have done it by himself'," Orlandu quoted, chuckling. "Though I'll admit that I'll be peeved if the history books only mention my fighting ability and not anything else. There's far more to me than that."

"Like your raging sexism and rampant ego?" I asked, grabbing the doorhandle to the Golden Chocobo and yanking it open.

"You forgot my impressive sense of humour," the man replied with a smug grin, entering the building.

I followed, rolling my eyes.

oOo

A short while later, our entire party was gathered in one of the inn's private rooms. Ramza sat at the head of the table, on his left side Agrias and her two knights. I sat to his right, as well as Rafa and Malak. Cid took the seat across from Ramza at the foot of the table, and Mustadio had opted to lean against the wall instead of pulling a chair from another room and sitting at a corner.

"The better to snark," he'd informed me. I'd scowled in response, but that hadn't done anything but prompt a wider smile.

"So..." Lavian began, resting her chin on the bridge of her hands, rolling her gaze to Ramza. "Do we have a plan?"

"We're going to attack the monastary with a frontal assault, smash any resistance, and kill any Lucavi who get in our way," Ramza said shortly, staring down at the map Alicia had drawn on the paper which now lay sprawled on the table.

"I think we were looking for something a little more concrete than that," Agrias noted bluntly.

"Fair enough," our blond leader admitted after a moment, jabbing his finger down at the map. "I expect an ambush here and here, though we're going to go in expecting a fight every step of the way. Agrias, you and your knights will be equipping robes instead of armour until we start running into Lucavi. I want you ready and able to heal anyone who gets hurt with magic to spare, got it?"

"He's so forceful when he starts planning, isn't he?" Alicia asked me with a broad grin, prompting a slight blush on Ramza's face and a more than slight blush on my own. The way the woman emphasized the word 'forceful' was simply indecent.

Not that she was incorrect.

"Mustadio, I want you to have both your guns ready to fire and within easy reach. Regular bullets for the fighters and magical bullets for the spellcasters," Ramza continued, recovering.

"You realize it takes me a second or two to reload, right?" Mustadio asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"That's why I bought seven more guns," Ramza noted with a grin. "Keep them loaded and within easy reach, and you won't have to reload between shots for a little bit. I've got them in an easy to reach holster, so I'll trust you to fire and discard as needed. Just remember to pick them up after the fight's done... Those contraptions you use to fight aren't cheap."

"Duly noted," the ponytailed engineer replied with a smirk.

"Rafa and Malak, you two will be hammering any opposition that comes close with your skills. Rafa, you'll hit the spellcasters and your brother will hit everyone else. Keep the blasts coming as hard and as fast as you can. We're going to be taking out any enemies we come across at range, so you'll have free reign to keep attacking," Ramza concluded.

"I take it myself and my newest apprentice will be shattering the weapons of anyone foolish enough to get within range?" Cid wondered, rubbing his jaw.

"Absolutely. I'd like both of you to focus on our enemy's weapons, since if they don't have their weapons they can't fight. Though if you see a monk or a mage, feel free to improvise," the Beoulve informed us with a smile. His face turned serious. "I don't know what we're going to run into in the monastery, so I'm going to be our wildcard. If Agrias, Lavian, and Alicia need help with the healing, I'll be casting priest spells. If I see the opportunity to hammer our enemies, I'll be among them.

"It's important that you keep doing your jobs, however," Ramza concluded, turning a stony gaze towards Rafa and Malak. "I don't care if I'm right next to a target. You two will keep hammering them with your skills, collateral damage be damned. I can take more hits than our enemies, and we'll have to take that chance when we fight."

"What about you?" I asked, more than a bit of worry entering my tone.

"That's why Lavian and Alicia will be focusing on healing," Ramza informed me. He sighed, leaning forward in his chair and resting his hands on the table. "I want to thank you all for agreeing to come with me. I know we set out just to stop the Lucavi, but they made it personal for me. And for Meliadoul, as well. The rest of you have nothing to prove by coming with us, but you are. I really appreciate it."

"As do I," I informed them, becoming uncomfortable as everyone focused on me. I pushed forward with the thoughts on my mind. "I've only known you for a few short weeks, which is nothing beside the years pretty much all of you have spent fighting together. However... You have made me feel like one of you, for which I am thankful."

In that moment, we were a family in everything but name. The warmth of every face around me and the dedication we had to our cause, it was inviting.

"Okay, so that's enough of the mushy crap," Mustadio said, breaking the mood. I scowled fiercely at him as Cid tried to hide a grin. He stretched with a mock yawn. "Alright, so we know how we're going to save the world. That's the boring part of the evening out of the way. Now I suggest we order some Romandan tequila and see if I can convince Lavian to try on the dancer's silks I picked up this afternoon."

We had a great many questions about why the blond boy had picked up a set of dancer's silks. Of course, some time into the evening when he actually HAD convinced Lavian to try them on, our questions were answered.

Exhausted and making my way to bed long after the sun went down, I smiled. Despite the tragedy we were walking into, despite the fact we were, one and all, fugitives, we could find some small measure of peace and enjoyment. In the midst of our soul-rending battle, we could still be a family.

Having lost my own, I knew how rare it was. Unlatching the door to the room I shared with Agrias and her knights and grinning at Lavian's passed-out form, still wearing the dancer's clothing, I made my way to my bed and went to sleep.

Tomorrow's worries could wait for the night.

oOo

Author's Notes:

Regarding Orlandu, this back story was one I had in mind for him for a while. It explains how Olan has the broken Galaxy Stop ability and also how he's Cid's stepson while his mother isn't around. Speaking of which, simply having a _stepson _as a male in a world which is a rough analog of Medieval Europe's nobility is a large part of the reason I've made him so strange. While not completely unheard of, it was generally only women who inherited step-children in the nobility.

About the holy stones... My perception of the stones has never been that they're purely evil things, but that the person who wishes to wield them must be truly innocent and free from any temptation. Say what you will about most of the other vessels, but Weigraf has quite a few parallels to Ramza and he was converted himself. I really don't see Ramza being much purer than Weigraf, and I imagine the only reason he wasn't converted was because he still had Alma to worry about. The only good thing they do is bring back Malak, and the only "evil" thing Rafa wanted (Barinten's death) was already done.


	8. Chapter 8

Purity Amidst Madness

oOo

Chapter 8

oOo

It was an unusually silent trip to Orbonne. Though the trip took two days, my companions and I hardly spoke to one another, other than when necessity demanded it. The situation was very clear to us... This was the final leg of our journey. Win or lose, the next three days would decide our fates, and the fate of our entire country.

On the road before us, Ramza walked at the head of our group, step after step. We followed in his wake, at the pace he set, our minds consumed by the enormity of what we were attempting to accomplish.

In a strange way, I was reminded of the tale of Ajora and the holy stones. Yet we were a perversion of that ancient legend. Our own tale was far more desperate, in a way. The stones were not our allies, but our enemies. Instead of establishing a church, we found ourselves fighting the very organization Ajora founded.

In that light, it was very humbling to follow in Ramza's footsteps the way we were. Even without the help of magical stones, we were opposing a kingdom just as hellbent on destroying our small group as Ajora faced. And much like that small band, we were gathered around one young man who not only led us, but was very definitely the man who stood between us and annihilation.

It's disquieting to realize that in a hundred years, you might be remembered as the disciple of someone so strong and powerful and righteous that the world was forced to bend to his will instead of the other way around.

Ramza was too humble to have such thoughts, of course. He didn't care that we were defying everyone with power in our country. He didn't care that demons from Hell itself rose to confront him. The only things he cared about at that moment were doing what was right and saving his sister.

And that humble simplicity was why we followed him.

Had he considered just what we were doing, had he given the time to pause and examine what he had done, I feel that perhaps even our stalwart leader would have been overwhelmed. Yet he never gave himself the time to pause, not when he felt he had things to do.

So as the sun rose on a new day, we made ready to assault Orbonne. As we approached the small building, the weight of the world descended on our shoulders. The entryway seemed ever-far away, and only Cid seemed to match Ramza's pace as it came into sight.

Our blond leader stopped and turned around.

"I want to thank each and every one of you," Ramza said, smiling slightly as he paused. "This... This is my fight. It's not about the fate of Ivalice and the fate of everyone in it. I... I can't afford to think that big. I think it would overwhelm anyone. I'm here because I intend to make Vormav pay for taking my sister. Everything else is incidental. Still, I'd like to thank you all for being here with me."

"Though if we do happen to save Ivalice, you'll of course take full credit for this masterful plan?" Mustadio asked with a chuckle, prompting a nervous laugh from Ramza and a much heartier laugh from the rest of us.

"I'm not that reckless," Ramza said lightly, shrugging his shoulders as he turned back towards Orbonne.

Yet, as we continued towards Orbonne, full of cheer, I grimly reflected that he most certainly was. One of the survivors of Ramza's assault on Bethla had reported not that Ramza was worried about his sister, or Delita, or anything petty like that.

He'd been worried about the outcome of the battle. So he stopped it. As quick as his mind put thought to action, he'd been there, preventing what would have been the biggest civil war in Ivalice. In the middle of that potential war, Ramza had slapped the country in the face and told it to wake the hell up and pay attention to him.

He was the most reckless individual in Ivalice. Then again, our country had paid attention to him when he smacked it. I briefly wondered if it indeed made one reckless to try to change the course of history when one had the power to do so. Other thoughts crept into my mind as we made our way into Orbonne, and then there was no time for thought at all.

Hell wouldn't stop itself from invading our beloved country.

oOo

The first line of defense came when we were four floors down. We heard Rofel ordering the men there to stop us, but of course... Well, it was _us, _after all. Within moments, the men put in our way were dead. And then we heard Rofel performing a chant of some sort, and Ramza charged ahead of us.

When we caught up with him, we found that Orbonne was carved over an ancient mine of some sort. Smirking at us over creaking wooden walkways, Rofel stood with his sword ready and quite a few professional magicians at his side.

Two wizards, two summoners, and a time mage supported our foe.

I snorted in disgust. The man was seriously underestimating us. Not a single fighter at his side against the likes of us? Most of me was wondering just what the man was thinking in assuming he could take us with that few, while a small part of me gibbered in terror at the notion creeping into my mind. I'd had a lot of practice in ignoring that part since I joined the band of warriors at my side.

"I've been waiting for you, Ramza!" Rofel declared, his blade smoothly clearing the scabbard at his side. "You've come far enough! Your corpse will remain eternally beneath this monastery!"

Ramza's eyes narrowed as he glared at the man.

"You feel like Celia and Lede did. You're not human, are you?" Ramza pondered, his Ninja edges clearing their sheathes as he set himself for combat.

"Of course not. Did you think the Marquis was the only one who received favours for his service? Vormav has been dedicated to our cause far longer, and I was granted to his service only a handful of years after his wife died!" Rofel noted with a smirk. My former teacher glanced up to me, his expression full of mock pity. "Did you really think your father simply a monster, my dear? No, he fell slow and with great reluctance. But all mortals fall to our temptations, eventually."

My stomach grew sick as I remembered Ramza struggling with the Holy Stones only a few nights previous. My father had once been as devout and pure a temple knight as any. That he had fallen so far, fallen so hard, it only proved how much temptation the stones truly held.

"Meliadoul, you nearly had him last time, right?" Ramza's voice breaks the distractions on my mind as his grin brightens the darkness around us. One eyebrow rises almost challengingly. "He's just a demon. They don't learn, don't grow. We do. This time, you'll get him for sure, right?"

I find myself nodding before my caution wonders what the hell I've just agreed to.

"Mustadio, the summoners. Agrias and Orlandu, take the wizards. I'll get the time mage," Ramza notes casually, a crossbow appearing in his hands as if by magic. "Nobody will interfere with Rofel and Meliadoul unless I step in," he continues, before pausing and flashing me a grin. "Give him hell."

And as quickly as the words are spoken, the deed is done. Lightning impales one wizard as the other is pummeled to death by shards of ice. The first summoner dies in the same instant, a small hole in his head not congruent with the gore pushed out the back. The second dies much in the same fashion an instant later as the time mage falls, his heart pierced by a bolt from Ramza's crossbow.

Rofel's eyes widen. In three seconds, the battle is over. It is during moments such as this that I remember precisely why people don't fight our merry band. Lavian and Alicia are smiling as they whisper, and a moment later I feel Regen and Protect fall around me as I approach Rofel.

"Do you really think you can take me, girl?" My old teacher demands, his eyes burning with hate as he glares at me. I shift my shield and firm my grip on the hilt of my blade in response, rather than voicing any words.

We charge along the rickety narrow walkway, and I slide under his horizontal slash on my knees, getting a foot back on the ground just in time to bodycheck him backwards, throwing him away. I bring Save The Queen across in a vicious slash which gouges deeply into the armour under his robes, spilling his black blood onto the wooden planks below us as he falls flat on his back. He spins his legs and somehow rolls backwards onto his feet, despite the plate mail he wears.

"Get him, girl!" Orlandu yells cheerfully, and a quick glance back shows that my companions have actually sheathed their weapons, one and all.

They...

They actually believe that I can do this. They believe that I can defeat Rofel, enough that they've put up their weapons and given me enough space to do as I must. I grin, feral, as my attention swirls back to my foe. I promise myself that this time, he will not escape me as he had the last time.

A small part of me realizes I've become very much like my companions. He won't escape? I've grown into a fine madness, haven't I? I barely escaped death myself, last time.

"You're all talk, teacher," I inform Rofel, snapping my sword down and raising the shield I gripped in his direction. I know how to beat him. "Come at me with that strength of yours. It's nothing beside the strength I've found!"

He doesn't even know that he's doomed as he charges.

Two steps away, he brings his sword up with his hand and begins to bring it down in a swing which would shatter my arm if I tried to block the blade. I reduce the distance to a single step as I move forward, catching his elbow with my shield. The strength of the blow still slams me to my knees, injuring my elbow and shoulder as Rofel's sword tumbles along the wooden walkway behind me.

Yet it's my left arm which is injured. My other arm, my sword clutched in my right hand, is fine. Rofel is helpless and trying to step back and reach for the second sword at his waist, which proved to be a deadly mistake on his part.

Doing so left the gash in his chest armour dangerously exposed, and the sword in my arm raced towards that gap as I put both of my legs into the thrust. Rofel only had time to cough as Save The Queen slid through his chest, splashing the ground behind him with his dark blood. I held him up on my blade for a moment before I overcame my shock, setting a foot on his stomache and thrusting him off.

Blood poured out his front and back as he considered me, the light in his eyes slowly dying.

Yet he somehow still found the strength to speak.

"I am not yet dead! My duty... Is not yet done!" Rofel spat, his grin obscene with the blood staining it. Somehow, he fought past the horrible wound on his torso to get to his feet. I thrust towards him, and was horrified to find him catching my blade, his foot extending to kick me away.

I slammed into someone, their arms wrapping around me and stopping my momentum as my gaze went to their face. Ramza grinned back at me.

"You think me defeated!" Rofel laughed, his hands slapping together as a magical circle spread outwards from his feet. "I'll not die alone! Come down into hell with me!"

"Get back!" Ramza yelled, putting words to action as he delivered two rapid kicks, sending Lavian and Alicia back in an instant as he coiled his legs to jump he and I clear as Rafa and Malak twisted out of the way. Yet Ramza and I froze despite our movement, as did Agrias, Orlandu, and Mustadio, as the circle writhed.

"DEJEON!" Rofel shrieked, and the world shifted. We were no longer in Orbonne. We were... Somewhere else entirely. My former teacher spared us one glance as he coughed up blood. "Welcome to Hell. There is no way back to Ivalice. Only I know how to get back, and..."

Coughs wracked his frame, and Rofel spared the strength to shoot us one more glare.

"Go on, Ramza. Your sister is waiting," and with that, Rofel died.

And the platform underneath us collapsed, spilling us towards the demonic vortex underneath.

Looking at the energy, I knew we were dead.

oOo

Author's Notes:

Hate laptops. Hate hate hate. Still, I'm getting used to it. I don't have much choice... My old system is pretty much fried to hell. It's really strange switching from Ubuntu to Windows 7, too. Not bad, just different. Might do a dual boot just so I've got some familiarity. Anyhoo, I figured if SerialRavist can update, so can I. Even if it meant writing on this stupid gods-be-damned keyboard.

One of the things that always bothered me about Final Fantasy Tactics was how limited the fights were. Speaking personally, if I had to pick a dream game, it'd take the customization of Final Fantasy Tactics and combine it with the stage design and stage interactivity of Vandal Hearts and Kartia. Maybe add in the branching story of Tactics Ogre for shits and giggles. That is a game I'd buy and then withdraw from humanity to play endlessly.

-Gaming Ikari


	9. Chapter 9

Purity Amidst Madness

oOo

Chapter 9

oOo

At this point in my tale, it should come as no surprise for you to learn that Ramza saved the four of us who remained by his side. As I fell, feathers drifted into my vision, enveloping me, Agrias, Orlandu and Mustadio, our plunge towards death slowing dramatically.

His magic depleted, Ramza collapsed to his knees in exhaustion, but only for a second. The dark void eating at the platform underneath him, our leader jumped towards Agrias, herself not much higher than he was, and caught in her midsection, crashing with a loud clang of metal on armour as Ramza drove her into the wall of the room, the pair falling to the ledge which surrounded it.

He was not done. Before Agrias could get her feet underneath her, Ramza had rolled and grabbed the ledge, flipping over it and bracing his feet on the lip to jump towards Orlandu. The blond Beoulve had aimed high, catching the old bastard's outflung hand and used the transfer of momentum to throw him towards the edge while aiming himself at the wall. A sword flashed out to crash through the stone giving him time to orient himself and orient on myself and Mustadio.

Despite the fact I was a little lower than the ponytailed engineer, Ramza hurled himself towards the young man, grabbing him briefly and hurling him towards Agrias as his feet hit the ceiling. His face was grim as it turned towards me, his legs uncoiling as he leaped towards me, grabbing me and dragging the both of us towards death far faster than the float spell would have drawn things out.

Ramza landed on a chunk of rock no bigger than my shield, compressing and extending his leg in the blink of an eye, hurling us into the top of the room, tiles shattering beneath (or perhaps, in this case, above) his back as he shielded me from the worst of the impact, the pair of us falling to the ground. Agrias was already chanting a healing spell as Ramza forced himself to his knees with a cough.

"Alma..." He groaned, his sheathed katana working as a cane as he pushed himself to his feet. He took a step towards the door, and stumbled against the wall, resting there for a moment until Agrias finished the chant for the third domain Cure spell, revitalizing the battered young man.

He turned to us with a grin, wiping the blood from his lips.

"Well, we've got two to go. Let's go finish this," he said, stalking towards the exit.

In that moment, I knew I'd marry him. Whatever happened, he _would_ be mine.

"See that? You're not like that. In fact, you're the opposite. That's why I don't care about you getting me perfume," Agrias noted to Mustadio with a blank look. The Romandan turned to the woman with an outraged glare.

"My god, what does it take to impress you?" Mustadio demanded, scratching his head as he glared at the honey-blond sword mistress. "We are here, in **Hell**. I'm actually, despite all rational excuses to the contrary, okay with the fact I am in Hell! This is actually part of what I expect of being Ramza's best friend! Yet I have the massive, yet debilitating advantage over him of being, y'know... Sane!"

"Sanity is overrated," Agrias muttered, walking past him to follow Ramza out of the room.

The three of us stood there for a moment, silent.

"Do I smell funny? Is that why she keeps acting like this?" Mustadio demanded of me, lost.

"All I know is that I've staked my claim already, and I've got what it takes to beat her one on one," I replied with a grin, moving along.

As I left the room, I heard Cid walk up to Mustadio and pat him on the shoulder.

"Now you know how I felt, putting myself beside Balbanes and being compared to him," Orlandu noted glumly, though not sympathetically.

I did my best to stifle my chuckle.

It escaped anyway.

oOo

Our good humor ended as soon as we got to an old temple, the only way across a narrow area of land over a terrifying blackness. We'd only taken a few steps in when Ramza stopped, gesturing for the four of us to halt as well.

Kletian stood in our path, flanked by two ninjas, two mediators, and two monks. It seemed that despite the poor planning of my former teacher, Kletian was determined to make up for it.

"Move aside," Ramza ordered, taking a step forward as he drew his katana. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the troops flanking Kletian. "We both know that these few troops aren't enough to stop me. Move aside before I'm forced to kill you."

"That's your problem, Ramza," Kletian confided, his grin growing as he observed us. "You only see the broad strengths of your opponents, while I... I prefer to work with the synergy of the troops under my command. For example, did you know that each of these ladies has an affinity for geomancy?"

At his word, the six women slammed their hands into the ground, flooding the temple with water.

"And... Did you know that I've taken black magic farther than it's ever gone?" Kletian demanded, his eyes narrowing. "Say goodbye, Ramza."

The katana that had been in Ramza's hands rebounded off of a protect shield inches from Kletian's throat as he knelt into the water.

"Ninth domain of Ice!" Kletian screamed, crystals forming from our opponent's hands to instantly freeze the water around us, limiting our mobility. Ramza looked down and shattered the ice at his feet in an instant, which is probably the only thing that saved him.

God knows it wouldn't save us, for Kletian wasn't done.

"Third domain of Ice, Impale!" The young mage screamed, a visible corona of energy surrounding him as spikes grew from the ice at our feet. Unlike Mustadio or Agrias, Orlandu and I managed to dodge them, though I could tell the two were dead. When spikes grew from the spikes, I only had time to flinch as a cold lance impaled me, leaving me twitching.

Even Orlandu fell, his eyes widening as thin stilletos of ice penetrated his armor, holding him in place as he slumped, held aloft only by the lances through his vitals.

Our leader, separated from this madness, grew desperate at our plight. He began chanting a spell even as droplets gathered on the icy spike which had gotten me. I knew more spikes would be growing from them momentarily.

My last perception in that battle was Ramza screaming a slow spell, of all things, somehow hitting all four of us.

As consciousness fled, I firmly believed that this would be my last battle. In the center of Kletian's spell, I saw our bleeding leader. He was about to be beset by the troops arrayed against us, not to mention Kletian himself. I knew that even the most powerful resurrection magics could only bring someone back if they'd been dead less than a minute.

It was to this knowledge that I felt life leave me.

I thought our quest doomed.

Yet what felt like only seconds later, I felt warm fingers grasp me, entreating me to open my eyes. When I did, the first thing I saw was a gloved hand hovering inches from my face. I instinctively reached out for it, and, wonder of wonders, Ramza was pulling me to my feet.

I looked at the blond youth. His face was a mass of bruises, and ample pain had been inflicted upon his frame, visible through the damage to his clothing. Holes, presumably from gunfire, marked his tunic where it wasn't slashed to ribbons. His left arm was an unsightly collection of burns, and horror prompted me, in that moment, to remember that Kletian felt that anything less than a Flare was not good enough.

"Seems to me like it's only Vormav left, now," Ramza commented simply, slowly turning to Agrias. "Hey, do you have any ethers? I'm feeling a little drained."

I felt numb.

Somehow, Ramza had managed to bring us all back. I was amazed as I took the headcount, noting that all five of us were still here. Battered and broken, with all his allies killed, our leader had not only managed to turn the tables on the ambush, but done so in a way that left him with enough time to bring us back from the brink of death.

And so we pressed on.

The shattered corpses of our enemies behind us and the unknown terrors of hell itself ahead of us, we journeyed deeper into the world of darkness that surrounded us.

I felt secure, knowing that the man who led us was more terrifying than anything this realm could dream up.

oOo

Author's Notes:

A little short, but... These things happen. On the bright side... Balk 2, Vormav, Ajora, and the Epilogue. And then everything is finished! Part of it was that I wanted to impress on everyone that the the guys the group is facing are badass in their own right... With the spells at his disposal, Kletian should have represented a near total party kill, not a wuss battle.

I also made a Vonnegut reference. I'm sure you know what it is.

I swear to god, as soon as I have the good sense to remember I need a full, proper keyboard... It'll happen. If I could take a sledgehammer to this laptop keyboard without breaking the awesome computer underneath, I would.

As for why I didn't write up the Gift of the Magi scene? Well, Meliadoul wasn't there for it. :P


	10. Chapter 10

Purity Amidst Madness

Chapter 10

oOo

Personally, I thought Mustadio looked ridiculous. He seemed to agree, glaring at Ramza as we marched. The pony-tailed engineer now walked with a bandoleer of ten pistols strapped to his slight frame, in addition to the magic gun in his hip.

"Ramza, I feel ridiculous," the young man noted to his best friend, shifting the bandoleer uncomfortably.

"Mustadio... What if I can't save us, next time?" Ramza asked simply, leading the way. From his gait, I could tell our leader was still feeling the effects of the last battle. While it's true that the ethers and potions he drank after our last encounter had technically restored him to full, he still seemed to me to be suffering from some malady neither could cure.

Not that it's any surprise. Every time I went to speak, I found my throat tightening considerably. My previous thoughts of his legend had only been proven frighteningly right in our last battle. What does one say to a man that focused? Indeed, what can one say? I was lost in my own thoughts at that moment.

Those thoughts were interrupted by the barrier in front of us. A large chasm stretched to our left and right as far as the eye could see, with only a small protrusion from the shattered city being the only viable point from which we would feel free to jump across.

Ramza approached first, and until the sharp crack of the gunshot reached my ears I had no idea why he fell, clutching his chest. A second gunshot whizzed by my ear as I dove for the cover of a nearby pile of rubble, watching as my compatriots did the same.

"I'm going to try to drag him back," Agrias growled, standing and holding her shield up. The bullet pierced the shield and then her throat, sending her to the ground behind the collapsed pillar which she'd sought refuge behind earlier. I rolled out of cover and sprinted for the pillar, the next shot taking me high in the arm as I slid behind the stone guarding her. A phoenix down revived Agrias, and she didn't try to rise again, caution warring with anger in her eyes.

"We don't have much time, we've got to do something!" I growled, moving to stand. If I died, Cid could bring me back. But his hand firmed me and the old man nodded to Mustadio with a grin.

"Meliadoul, the Chemist pouch!" Mustadio yelled, rising and firing in one smooth motion. The Blaze gun in his hands spat, and a large chunk of ice appeared in front of Ramza's rapidly-cooling corpse. He caught the pouch I threw as he sprinted for the newly-made cover, sliding to press his back against the ice even as he threw a phoenix down on our leader.

Ramza coughed, and only Mustadio's leg prevented him from rolling out of the protection granted by the ice barricade as he was revived.

"So... We've got a sniper," the blond engineer said, darting his head out to scan the opposite cliff and pulling it back quickly, his caution proven correct as a piece of the cover disintegrated under a shot from somewhere.

"I'd noticed," Ramza commented blandly, groaning as he pulled himself to a crouch next to Mustadio. He repeated Mustadio's gesture, not flinching as his glance was too slow and something whizzed by, tossing his hair a bit. "I just realized that I may have neglected my abilities with ranged weapons."

"That's why you need me," his friend replied easily, poking his head over the cover for a split second and frowning as ducked back down. "I see Hydras on the far bank, and I can't think of any pistol that gives this sort of range. I can see the guy on the far bank. Maybe forty feet to the right of our position and about six hundred feet back. He's got a two-handed pistol of some sort."

"A longpistol?" Our leader mused, popping his head out for a second and dipping back behind cover as more of it disappeared to gunfire.

"Whatever you want to call it, I want it," Mustadio noted, reloading the magical gun at his side. He glanced at it briefly. "Ever wonder why the mage who made this called it a Blaze Gun and carved fire on the side when it clearly shoots ice spells?"

"Ever wonder why you get these thoughts when we're stuck behind rocks with no way of escape?" I hissed, prompting a dark chuckle from Mustadio and Ramza.

"I can get close enough to that guy, Ramza. Plus, this is my field of expertise," Mustadio noted, raising an eyebrow. Our blond leader nodded in response.

"But you need someone to help out with the hydras, right?" Ramza asked with a sick smile. "Mustadio, I suppose I could try a leap..."

"Good for the way up and the way down, bad for when you hit the apex. You'd be a sitting duck up there," Mustadio told him. "Get naked."

I blinked.

"The Secret Clothes?" Ramza pondered, already unbuckling the armour on his slim frame.

"You got it. I'm pretty sure I can take out any of the hydras at range with ease. The problem is the one or two who're going to surprise me," the blond told Ramza, wincing.

And then Ramza proved that even with my expectations, he could surprise me. Putting on the rather plain clothes he dug out of his pack, he promptly turned invisible.

Surprisingly, despite the fact the pair of us were watching, the sniper didn't take a shot at myself or Agrias, allowing us to watch. Perhaps he feared that whatever the blond duo had planned would require all of his attention.

I have to admit that at the time, I knew he was probably right. Mustadio threw a hand out of cover, firing the magical weapon and creating a new ice block right at the edge of the chasm separating us from our opponent and his creatures, and in that moment he broke from cover in a sprint.

Directly opposite from the direction he'd created cover closer to his foe.

He was already reloading the Blaze Gun as he ran, slipping the ready firearm into a holster as he leaped across the abyss below. He landed on the edge and rolled, a missed shot plucking at the waist of his billowing shirt at nearly the same instant as he slid into cover behind a large boulder.

I didn't think he'd noticed the approaching hydra, but I'd apparently misjudged him. He threw one arm out and shot the creature in the eye, killing the centre head. As it bore down on him he drew two more weapons from the bandoleer across his chest, and two more sharp cracks ended the foul creature's life.

An angry shriek announced another hydra, this time bounding along the edge of the chasm as it approached Mustadio. The blond drew one gun and aimed carefully down the barrel, exhaling a bit as his hand squeezed on the gun. An instant later, as the hydra's front legs were coming down to the ground in it's sprint, the foreleg closest to the darkness below was kicked out from underneath it, and the beast only had time to bellow thrice in fear as it's tumbling momentum carried it over the edge and into death.

Mustadio rose from cover and fired in one smooth shot directly at the sniper. Ice blossomed in front of our foe, and he shouted a cry of surprise as the pony-tailed man broke from cover in a dead sprint towards the man, eating half a dozen feet every second as he desperately closed the gap between himself and his target.

"Ramza!" Mustadio yelled, drawing his Romandan pistol from the sheath at his side and sighting down it unflinchingly, even as a third hydra bellowed and began to close with the concentrating youth.

The hydra died mid leap, skewered on a large spear held in Ramza's hand. Even as fires began to gather in it's throat, Ramza spun and hacked off the three heads in one blow with a large knight blade.

The mysterious sniper was shot the instant his rifle appeared, Mustadio sheathing his pistol and running forward towards the man, a now-visible Ramza on his heels.

"Did Mustadio just?" Agrias began, confused.

I was already running, my two remaining companions coming swiftly after me.

oOo

By the time we arrived, Mustadio and Ramza had already subdued the man firing the weapon at us. It wasn't my father, who I'd thought the only other person with us down in the dark.

It was Balk.

The strange pistol, almost three feet long, was held in the blond engineer's hands.

"You used the power of the Holy Stone to survive last time, didn't you," Mustadio asked quietly, staring down at the defeated man. The engineer clutched at his ruined neck, nodding after a moment. Mustadio snorted. "Pathetic. A man from Romanda should have better sense than to get involved in this sort of insanity."

"You're... here..." Balk choked out, smiling darkly at the youth.

"I suppose I am," Mustadio allowed, drawing a pistol and shooting Balk in the face. I flinched, and pointedly didn't look at the no-doubt gruesome sight. He reached down, rooting through a pouch and throwing Ramza a Holy Stone. At the shocked look on our faces, he shrugged. "Lucavi appear to be a lot easier to kill if you don't let them transform first. I'm sure it would have been more honourable to let him change form and come at us as a demon, too, but I don't think Alma has that kind of time."

Ramza simply nodded in response, continuing on.

"Shall we, then?" Mustadio asked the rest of us, prompting us to move on.

oOo

We'd been walking for maybe ten minutes when Agrias spoke.

"He had to have done that because of what I said. Nothing else makes sense," Agrias stated, and I looked over at her. Her eyes looked... troubled.

"Are you really so surprised, wench?" Orlandu asked, quirking an eyebrow towards the two young men walking in front of us.

"But he's... Mustadio!" Agrias argued. Not very effectively, in my opinion.

"And he's very good at what he does," Orlandu agreed. He patted the woman on the shoulder. "Look, you've compared him to Ramza. We both know that that's not really fair. Mustadio has spent most of his time learning how to deal with structures and excavation. He's not, despite evidence to the contrary, a fighter."

"He has more than proven his worth as a warrior," Agrias argued, crossing her arms. "Not a great one, but fit to stand with us."

"That's his point, I think," I allowed, catching the honey-blond swordswoman's surprised glance. "Mustadio's erratic. As good as he is with those contraptions, I don't think he's ever actually been trained to fight. Everything he knows he probably learned by himself or traveling with Ramza."

"But... That would mean he wasn't used to fighting," the holy swordsman argued, crossing her arms. "There's no way..."

"Maybe there is," I concluded, glancing significantly towards the slightly taller young man. Mustadio glanced back at us and smiled a bit, still cradling the longpistol with the boyish excitement of someone waking up for Christmas Day.

Agrias looked troubled as we marched onward.

oOo

Author's Notes:

I always felt that it was strange that Mustadio and Balk shared no dialogue whatsoever, since they're very clearly parallels of one another. Dramatically speaking, Balk should be Mustadio's time to shine. So it is in this story. I rewrote the dialogue, obviously. Like the whole Zalbag thing, the second fight with Balk was pure filler. This time it really didn't serve any purpose, so I re-imagined it to be something a lot more awesome.

I think it works. Let me know if I'm wrong.

Also, the look on Agrias' face during her any line of speech related to Mustadio had to have been priceless. It's a shame I can only imagine it in my head.


	11. Chapter 11

Purity Amidst Madness

Chapter 11

oOo

"That's something you don't see every day." Mustadio's comment, glib as it was, was still filled with wonder. As much as he prided himself on the comments he called "humour", even he could not hide his amazement at the sight in front of us.

Our march had lead us to a sharp cliff. Yet our way forward was not barred. A twenty foot long gangway led onto a ship, suspended in midair by nothing save for a large, tightly-knit bag of cloth. And this was not our destination, either. Hundreds of such ships spread as far into the black as our eyes could see, joined together only by narrow wooden gangways with no railings.

"He's there," Ramza growled, stepping onto the wood bridge and crossing to stand in the center of the first ship. He pointed to another floating vessel at the edge of our vision. "Vormav is there. I can feel him. That's where Alma is."

And without further comment, our leader stepped onto the gangway, striding purposely forward into the graveyard of airships which lay in front of us. The ship creaked and slowly swayed under his movement, and the rest of us followed.

We'd already followed him this far.

A few steps more wasn't beyond the bounds of our expectations.

oOo

"Why isn't it working!"

My blood froze at the anguished scream, yet that didn't stop me from moving forward. The man who was once my father stood over a girl I presumed to be Ramza's sister: Golden hair tied into a tight pony-tailed spilled over the same turn of chin and cheek which marked his youthful features, yet they were somehow softer. While I couldn't deny that Ramza's features were masculine in their own way, the same features on his sister proved to be the height of beauty.

Vormav stood, clenching a Holy Stone tightly in one bracer-clad hand.

"Virgo is reacting to her. I've found the right vessel..." My father muttered, ignoring Ramza and the rest of our party as we all raced onto the ship where he stood. "Ajora can't be resurrected yet! You!"

The last was directed towards Ramza, who was slowly drawing a ninja edge and a vile, obscene blade formed of naught but Chaos itself. It hurt my eyes to look on the thing.

"That's enough, Vormav!" Ramza declared, crouching and preparing himself. "You've lost! Ajora isn't coming back! Give up and give me back my sister!"

The aged temple knight grinned at Ramza.

"You're wrong, Ramza. We just need more blood. Just a little more. I've caused enough bloodshed since I've been brought to this task, but I suppose it wasn't enough. I'd worry, but... I've got five sacrifices right here!" With that, bright light shone from the stone in Vormav's hand, and brilliant gold hairs blazed from his neck as he transformed, his face taking on the aspect of the Lion.

Hashmalum stepped forward, lips curling back in an obscene snarl.

"These bastards seem to have blood hotter than magma. Let me sacrifice this burning heat to you, Ajora!" He screamed, magic blazing in his hands as winds swept us from our feet and threw us into the railings of the airship. Amidst the tornado, only Alma's unconscious body was untouched... Which is why Ramza was untouched as well.

Noting that his sister was in no danger of harm, he sought to inflict much harm on our foe. While I cannot say that Hashmalum didn't expect the attack, I think the ferocity of it still surprised him. It's the only explanation I have for the way he went down, almost easier than Adramelk. A turn of Ramza's hips as he slashed his blade disemboweled the creature, ropy guts spilling onto the deck even as our blond leader kicked him in the chest and sent him sprawling onto his back.

Even as the beast's eyes tracked Ramza and shot balls of fire towards him, our leader back flipped to brace his feet on the mast of the ship, his eyes orienting as he launched himself towards our foe. Hasmalum's arm spun into the darkness as Ramza's blade bit deeply into the decking beneath, and the monster rolled to it's feet with a curse.

"Master... How can you not yet be awake?" The lion-headed monster demanded, stretching one free hand towards Alma's prone form as it collapsed to its knees. Blood leaked from its wounds as it watched Ramza approach his sister, helpless.

"Mph... Where..." Alma's eyes blinked as she slowly pushed herself up, her weight leaning on one arm as her eyes found Ramza's.

"Alma!" Ramza's tone was pure relief. The sound of a man lost who had finally found his salvation. Despite his feelings for me, I knew that Ramza's feelings for his sister ran infinitely deeper, and a part of me envied her that. She represented nothing less than half of him, somehow completing him in a way I knew I never could.

Then again, I supposed that perhaps I'd felt the same for Izlude. Ramza and I had freakishly similar origins: Both of us were the ignored progeny of a battle-torn family, and both of us had had a younger sibling whom was our only solace. I would have gone as far as Ramza had to rescue my own sibling, but capricious fate had denied me my chance.

I couldn't hate him for defying fate to save Alma. As much as I could admit I possessed strong feelings for him, I'd have cut them in twain if it would bring back my beloved brother.

"Ramza?" Alma's voice was light, almost musical. Yet it sounded horribly weak, no doubt the result of the hideous trial she'd just undergone. She raised one hand weakly to cup her brother's face.

"No! This isn't how it was supposed to be!" Hashmalum spat, rising shakily to his feet as he stepped forward. In an instant Ramza had his blade in hand, shielding Alma with his own body as he faced down the Lucavi. "Bloody Angel! My blood will bring you forth!"

Hashmalum reached down to grasp the edge of the wound which had disemboweled him, and he tore his own stomach asunder, blood flooding the deck as he stumbled forward. Ramza slashed at him as he came, and the monster ignored it, shoving Ramza aside to shed his blood directly onto Alma's surprised face.

The blood struck Virgo, still resting in her lap, and light blazed forth from the stone in response.

Ramza barely had time to yell his denial as a shock wave blasted everything from Alma's position away, tossing Hashmalum's corpse over the railing and barely sparing Ramza the same fate as the blond boy clutched the railing and tipped over, pulling himself back up in time to see the horror that now faced us.

"It seems I have a body of my own once again..." A deep voice commented using Alma's mouth. The girl stood practically unchanged, save for the silver hair which now replaced gold.

"Alma!" Ramza's cry was pure grief.

"What?" Ajora demanded, the deep voice flickering until Alma's clear tone rang forth. "H... Help me... Ramza!"

Ramza pulled himself onto the decking, taking a step forward. "Alma!"

"Don't in... Interfere, brother!" The deep voice attempted to cry, only to fade into a scream of agony as a form of pure light wrenched itself from Alma's silver-haired body. The form faded into a perfect copy, with only Alma's pure gold hair to differentiate it from her chrome-haired twin.

Ramza was at her side in an instant.

"Alma, are you alright!" Our blond leader demanded, pulling the girl to her feet and away from the clone in front of them. Alma muttered something to the boy before falling unconscious, and Ramza pressed her into my arms as he made ready for battle.

"Everyone get clear." Much like that desperate battle with Adramelk, Ramza's voice would brook no argument from us. He turned his head to us briefly and glared, his eyes almost burning with the spirit behind them. "I can't cut loose with you anywhere near me! Get the hell out of here!"

We retreated, myself pulling Alma away even as she cast a powerful spell of protection on her brother. Two ships back, barely able to hear the words being exchanged, we paused as a group. We refused to run away without at least witnessing this battle.

Despite everything our leader had done, we knew this battle might be his last.

"Prepare yourself, powerless one!" Ajora cried, and despite the fact the enemy wore his sister's face, Ramza charged forward with no hesitation. A long katana I'd last seen wielded by Marquis Elmdor appeared in the Beoulve heir's hands as if by magic, cutting in half a flare spell as he launched himself into the monster in human form.

With nimble grace, Ramza blurred in and out of Ajora's reach, always slashing and slicing with his blade as he impossibly dodged spell after spell, perforated defense after defense. Despite the powerful aura of magic we could all feel, over a hundred feet away, Ramza didn't relent. Didn't flinch. Lightning scoured the ground he'd been less than a second ago as he once more closed and struck, relentlessly whittling down his foe without pity or remorse.

Even as a powerful blade of lightning blasted him to his knees, the youngest male Beoulve slid the Masamune in between Ajora's ribs and grinned as the blade emerged from the savior's back, the startled woman gasping for air as Ramza slammed her into the ground, ripping her torso wide open as he did so.

"This cannot be!" Ajora shrieked, clawing at the decking as she pulled herself away from Ramza. Mute, our blond haired leader flicked the blood from his blade as he strode towards her, intent on finishing the job. "You're one of Germonik's descendants! I won't be beaten... I won't!"

Virgo shone with unholy light, and Ramza jumped back in surprise.

None of us had realized that Ajora's reawakening meant that Ramza was just facing a human. We hadn't realized that she could become a Lucavi as well. Ramza flinched, his boots digging a trench into the boat decking underneath as a shock wave pushed him back.

Altima, the Bloody Angel, now stood before him. Twice as tall as a man, the skeletal being flapped its monstrous wings once as it stretched, claws glinting in the perpetual gloom. In the book of Glabados, Altima was second only to Glimsatran in the pecking order of the Lucavi. Altima was basically the second in command.

Ramza readied his blade as the second most powerful demon in existence readied itself to destroy him.

"I will kill you!" Altima's roar made me flinch even where I stood.

In response, Ramza charged.

oOo

Author's Notes

Not much to go now, folks. One more chapter of the battle Ramza now faces, and then the epilogue. And then I'm going to be working on a new FFT story. I'm glad to have had everyone along for the ride, and I hope you've enjoyed my portrayal of the characters here.

Cheers,

Gaming Ikari


	12. Chapter 12

Purity Amidst Madness

Chapter 12

oOo

As Ramza ran towards his foe, a supernova of light seemed to erupt where Altima was. I recognized the spell, though only from description: It was Ultima, supposedly the most powerful spell in existence. Only Ultima Demons, named for their ability to cast the spell, were able to cast it. Or at least, that's what I'd thought.

Ramza seemed to possess that ability himself, now.

Shrieking in rage, and dare I say it, perhaps fear, Altima gestured once and a larger burst of light, the same as the one which had engulfed it, now sent Ramza's smoking body tumbling to a halt. He slowly rose to his feet, staring the monster in the face as it picked him up and hurled him away.

Even as far back as we were, we heard him cry out in pain as he struck the mast of the ship on which they stood. Even as Altima began to chant, I saw Ramza quaff an Elixer. One of the very few which we had left. The Chaos blade gleamed in his hand as he rose, a device made of nothing but madness and hate. He dropped the ninja edge he'd held, kicking it and sending it towards Altima as he charged.

A translucent disk of pure energy transposed itself between the Bloody Angel to block the incoming blade, deflecting it with an audible click of metal on stone. The same disk moved to stop Ramza's sword as he brought it down in a double-handed blow.

Altima grinned as the energy stopped the blade cold.

Ramza grinned as he flexed, the shield protecting his enemy shattering as the blade bit deeply into his foe's shoulder. The Lucavi shrieked in pain as it fell back, gesturing as three black wisps appeared, forming into Ultima Demons.

The lone remaining Beoulve male flicked a gaze contemptuously at them, his powerful blade flicking left and right, dispatching two before they'd gotten their bearings. The third took a step back, avoiding Ramza's follow up swing. The blond noticed Altima rising to it's feet and came to a decision, throwing the Chaos Sword into the Ultima Demon, relieving himself of his weapon in order to deal with the foe which would have been momentarily at his back.

Lacking a weapon didn't mean that the blue-eyed boy was helpless. Far from it, in fact. He grinned, feral, as he charged forward, his fists flying repeatedly into the demon's frame as he advanced. Altima was far too slow to block the blows, and even a feeble shield spell did nothing but shatter under the former Hokuten's fists.

A final punch launched the large demon back, and Ramza collapsed to his knees, spent.

"Not enough, descendant of Germonik!" The Bloody Angel's face twisted in anger as it rose to it's full height. "Not nearly enough! Destruction of all that is holy, reign down! All Ultima!"

Ramza barely had time to flinch as another blast of white-hot light engulfed him, this time coming from above and slamming him through the decking of airship. Altima glared into the hole with burning eyes, a ball of fire chasing Ramza down into the darkness before the skeletal creature turned towards us.

"Guys, I think Ramza's dead," Mustadio noted bluntly, fingering the longpistol at his side. He glanced at the Lucavi for a moment, watching as it took a slow step towards us. "I don't think it's going to be satisfied with just killing our friend."

"Should it?" Agrias demanded, her hand on her hilt.

Crack! Mustadio's new weapon spoke, blasting the creature back a step as he put a foot on the railing, reloading the weapon with an ease born of pure dexterity. He handled the weapon with the ease of someone who'd had it years, yet I knew he'd never seen one less than a few days ago.

"Glad I'm not make a group decision we'll all disagree with, then!" Mustadio yelled, raising the reloaded weapon to his shoulder and sighting down the barrel to find his foe, firing once more and grinning as Altima's head snapped back. "Die, you bastard!"

As one, we began to run across the divide, Mustadio's weapon cracking every few seconds as we charged the monster which had killed our leader. We made it to the gangway leading to the ship which was the Beoulve's grave when Altima's hands rose, blazing with unholy fire.

Agrias and I were charging down across the left, while Cid took the other path. Behind us, I heard Alma chanting a powerful healing spell, the same one which she'd blessed her brother with.

Looking at the spell in the Lucavi's hands, I knew we were dead.

Should have been, actually.

A gloved hand I recognized burst from the decking at the demon's left foot, pulling it down and spoiling the thing's aim as the fireballs left it's hands. Even though the attacks missed, even Cid, let alone Agrias and I, were blasted off our feet and flew back along the gangway.

Cid's walkway fell away into darkness, and only the wily old man's quickness prevented him from following it as he caught the railing of the airship he'd been blown back into. My hand caught Agrias' hand as she nearly fell into the vast blackness below, and then and there, I resolved that she needed to lose some weight.

Even with armor, she was heavier than she should have been. Too much of Rafa's good cooking, I supposed. I braced my feet and pulled her up, watching as the sole remaining gangway fell away.

Yet with our path to our foe barred, my faith was stronger than ever. A spear erupted through our foe, no doubt pulled from the depthless bottoms of one of Ramza's bags of holding, pinning it in place as he burst through the decking, casually tossing another spear into the Bloody Angel's torso.

"Strip away the ground with glistening blades!" Ramza chanted, perched on the mast of the airship. Yet he didn't stop there. His voice became strained even as he began the second verse. "Swirling bolts, gather and strike with power! Heavenly bolts, bring God's justice!"

The magic in the air fairly quivered, and sweat beaded on our leader's brow. Yet he wasn't done.

"Angry spirits of the world, strike now!" Ramza finished, and the hair on my head rose, as it did on all my companions. We stared in wonder as the Beoulve grinned, pointing a finger at his opponent. "Bolt!"

What struck was not a simple Bolt spell. It was nothing I'd ever seen before. Light brighter than the sun flashed in front of my eyes, and even trying to blink it away in that moment, I feared that the lightning strike which slammed into Ramza's foe would forever be seared into my vision. Yet even this did not stop the creature facing us. It raised a hand towards Ramza, and as the blond dove, drawing Marquis Elmdor's Masamune, fire raced towards him.

He cut in in half, riding the sword down to strike his foe.

The fire raced upwards, igniting the large balloon which held the airship aloft. I hadn't known the science behind them, then.

I didn't, couldn't, know that they would explode under that sort of fire.

The balloon over the ship my beloved Ramza fought against Altima himself on exploded, blasted the pair into the darkness below.

I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. Perhaps even Altima was surprised, but...

Even as he fell to near-certain doom, the Beoulve's eyes were upon killing his foe.

Perhaps that is what allowed him to defeat the creature before the ship reached the ground, triggering another explosion hundreds of feet below which obliterated the ship on which they had battled.

oOo

It was a long, slow, climb down the cliff face back where we'd finally crossed into the graveyard of airships. Docked as they were, even Mustadio could figure out no way for us to use them as anything but platforms. So we'd made our way back to the cliff and begun the perilous climb.

None of us questioned the necessity of it.

We'd seen the second explosion. We knew what it meant. Even Altima, the Bloody Angel, had fallen under Ramza's blade. The world was safe. Despite the fact the Temple Knights had succeeded at every turn, despite the fact they'd brought Ajora back with the Virgo stone clenched in her hands, we had succeeded. Every step of their plan had gone exactly right, save for us.

Actually, I thought, biting my lip as I paused in my descent.

We had done nothing.

We had tagged along on the coattails of a man far greater than us.

Ramza had won. Ramza had faced down Ajora, Altima, and had bested them with the strength of his convictions. And he had, perhaps, died for those convictions. I recognized the spell that his sister had protected him with, and I knew it allowed him to resurrect himself from death, but only once.

That one time had been what saved us all. I knew no such reprieve waited for him when Virgo had exploded. Nothing save for us could have saved him.

And yet we were climbing so damnably slow!

It was an eternity and more before we reached the bottom, and my companions could barely keep up with me as I sped across the broken landscape. Horror fought with hope as I moved across the shattered wood and brick below my feet. I didn't know what I prayed for.

Coming across Ramza's broken body, on the far side of a chasm, was the last thing I expected. He must have clung onto life for a long, long time for him to have not crystallized already, I thought, detached. My eyes quickly traveled both directions in which the yawning darkness blocked us, and I saw no way across.

All he needed was a simple spell of Life, one any three of the five of us could cast, I noted as my companions caught up with me. Orlandu caught Alma as she ran towards the edge, heedless of her own safety. He knew she was too far away to help.

We all were.

"Ramza," Mustadio spoke, his voice catching as he raised one pistol to his forehead in salute. Tears spilled from the engineers eyes as he fought back a sob. "T... Thank you for everything."

Agrias wordlessly drew her blade in response, raising it towards our leader. After a choked moment, I did the same. Alma wept incoherently into Cid's cloak, and he clutched the poor girl tight, his eyes pained as he gazed at a young man who, in another life, would have been as close to him as his own son.

There was nothing we could do.

Ramza Beoulve had fought maddening horrors and had died to protect us, and there was _nothing we could do to help him._ It was but a few dozen feet, but it was the same as a hundred miles separating us. Even Alma stopped her weeping as Orlandu gestured towards Ramza's corpse, as it began to glow with an internal light.

He was beyond any of us in that moment.

All we could do was watch, and give our prayers to his soul.

He was in the hands of those beyond our power, in that moment.

oOo

Author's Notes:

Only the epilogue to go, now.

I'll leave you all to speculate on the direction this story has taken. Though damn, I should probably stop drawing parallels between Kamina and Ramza, shouldn't I?

-Gaming Ikari


	13. Chapter 13

Purity Amidst Madness

Epilogue

oOo

The office I sat in was stuffy, and aside from Olan Durai, writing down my words, only a young woman in a risque dress underneath a cloak was with us. Olan's eyes had only grown wider and wider as my tale had finally gotten to the final attack on Orbonne.

It had only been three weeks since Ajora has risen from her grave. By the same token, it had only been three weeks since Ramza put her back there.

"After that, well, we were forced to climb back up the cliff. It took him nearly a day, but Mustadio figured out how to work one of the airships, and we escaped, finding a cave coming up from the bottom of a large chasm near Goug," I concluded, reaching over and taking a sip of the tea the other woman in the room had poured me. Though long cold, I downed it anyway. "I can only assume that wherever we went, it was not actually Hell. We met up with Rafa and the rest in Dorter, and your father obviously wanted to see you before we left... Though it was my idea to leave you with an account of the truth."

Olan looked stunned, despite the fact he'd seen his father just walk into the door of his estate with a bunch of hardened heretics less than six hours before. I slowly caught his eyes, giving him an even look.

"Olan, you must keep this a secret. With my account and the work you've done with Delita, you're probably the only one who knows the full truth of the War of the Lions. I certainly don't care what Delita has done nor do I care about the involvement of the Church at this point. They will," I informed him bluntly. I shifted a bit in my seat, continuing, "Your father and every one of us are the most wanted people in Ivalice at the moment. We intend to go to Ordallia, in the east, where we can safely hide. Should any danger befall you, your father wouldn't hear of it until after your funeral."

"I'll keep that in mind," Olan promised, nodding. He rose and strode to the window, opening it. "You know... It's funny. I've got to go to Alma's funeral shortly. But you said she was going to be watching it from afar. I suppose I should still go. The grave is empty and Alma's name is on it, but this may be my only chance to mourn Ramza."

"Ramza is dead," I nodded in confirmation.

"I assume you will all be gone by the time I return," Olan mused sadly, shaking his head. He glanced towards me with a small smile. "So what will you be doing now, Meliadoul?"

"Me? I'm getting married," I informed him simply, enjoying the way he sputtered in shock at the announcement. I rose and walked to the door, pausing briefly to glance back at him. "It's not Ramza, of course. I mean, it's not like he stole some perfume from me the very first time we fought. And it would certainly be silly to think that the enchantment in the perfume was the one thing which saved his life after the bottle broke in Altima's final explosion."

"Yes, that would be silly," Olan noted as he broke into laughter, glancing back out the window as I turned to leave.

"You understand, right? Ramza was the key to this. Without him, we're not worth the effort of pursuing," I said, not turning to face Olan. His laughter died out quickly, then.

"I understand, Meliadoul," Olan promised. His voice turned a little sad. "Ramza died down there, along with all of the rest of you."

I nodded once, then left.

My gloomy mood didn't last long. Once I rejoined my companions, my good cheer returned with haste. We departed perhaps half an hour after Olan left to go to Alma's funeral. Our plan was to meet up with her shortly and then move on to Ordallia with all haste.

Of course, I didn't care what Ramza thought about waiting. We were bloody well going to have a priest to marry us if I had to ordain Cid myself.

I wanted to be married _tonight_.

**~Fin~**

Author's Notes (Long, Story Conclusion Thoughts Ahoy):

I was going to drag the epilogue out, originally, but felt that keeping it short and letting you fill in the little gaps would be more fulfilling. Plus, you know, not having to write 10,000 words of boring Happily-Ever-After type stuff.

This story has been interesting. I had a lot of fun with it, especially the battle scenes. With those, I wanted to convey the battle system in a way that made sense within the narrative, something that Final Fantasy Tactics itself never really addressed. The best way to do that, I felt, was to draw some inspiration from Advent Children, so that's where a lot of the high intensity battles came from.

Like I said before, I also wanted to show that Ramza is kind of scary. By the time Meliadoul first encounters him, Ramza's a bit of a tank. By that point in the game, even assuming you're not grinding for JP or getting into a lot of random battles, Ramza is very likely going to be the strongest character in your party, Cid included. I wanted to emphasize that here, which I think I did really well.

Of course, the problem with writing Ramza is that, canonically, he doesn't really fail much. He spends the course of the game kicking ass, taking names, and daring the whole of Ivalice to f*** with him, something they learn pretty damned quick not to do.

At the same time, I wanted to stick as close to the script as possible while also improving it here and there and making the whole end a lot more dramatic. Unfortunately because the game has to assume you won't have story characters within your party once they join, a lot of characters get little to no development in Chapters 3 and 4. We get great character arcs until they join and then, nothing. The devs either ran out of time or got lazy with the conditionals.

I also wanted to explore Meliadoul's character a bit, and I really extrapolated quite a bit with this story. From the get go I was basing her around the idea of an angry, arrogant sort of woman, but one who has a set idea of how the world is and doesn't even consider the idea of things being different. Then Ramza comes along, casually shatters the core of everything she believes, and generally gets to be awesome on a level several steps above what she thinks is possible.

A lot of this story, especially the last few chapters, were also influenced by Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann. Very great anime (and I do prefer the original episodes to the two movies), and I deliberately drew a thematic link between Simon and Ramza in my own mind while scripting him. As much as the game can require anyone but really good players to work as a team to be strong, I wanted Ramza to dominate things and be scripted as an inspiration for those around him.

Mentioning parallels between Kamina and Ramza last chapter was just f***ing with you guys and trying to fake you out into thinking I'd kill the main character off. It's not the first time I've pulled that fakeout, either.

That said... I'm glad everyone's enjoyed the ride. Go read **For Want of a War** for more FFT by me, and if you're not already reading ObsidianDawn's **The Lion of Ivalice **or SerialRavist's **Slippery Slope** (or anything he's done, really), you're doing yourself a profound disservice.

-Gaming Ikari


End file.
